Her Everything
by Fabulist
Summary: Being the part-time boyfriend, part-time babysitter of the princess isn't all it's cracked up to be, but Eugene Fitzherbert is up for the challenge.  Besides, he loves her.  Now rated M for extra sauciness.
1. Pain

"Eugene! It is a _gorgeous_ day! Come out of there! I want to show you something!"

Once upon a time, Flynn slept until noon. He spent his days gallivanting around, pilfering, and flirting with the ladies, and he passed out wherever was convenient - including barns, tavern floors, the bedrooms of farmers' daughters...

Flynn rarely saw morning light. Now he lived in a palace and awoke each morning to more enthusiasm than was warranted at such an hour.

But then, he spent his every day with a girl so full of life and wonder, it was a fair trade. He never thought he'd call his old life boring, but it was like watching grass grow compared to what antics this girl got up to.

That didn't mean he didn't miss lazy mornings. "Just... gimme five more minutes," he mumbled, rolling away from the light streaming through the enormous windows.

"You said that five minutes ago." Eugene heard her sigh even on the other side of the door. He could read her a mile away. Rapunzel was a lot of things, but subtle was not one of them. "You're going to love what I can do! Come see!"

"I'm sure I will, Goldie. Why don't you practice for a little while? Then I'll come out and you can show me."

"That's a _great_ idea! I'm going to do that! See you soon!"

He heard her scamper off and smiled into his pillow. He should be getting up anyway. She couldn't really be left without supervision, and the palace staff still weren't used to just what kind of supervision she needed. Rapunzel was obsessed with new experiences. He couldn't blame her - she'd gone her entire life lonely and with little stimulation or opportunities to learn and grow. Eugene still caught her sometimes talking to inanimate objects... flowers, cutlery, whatever was at hand. The staff found this adorable. Eugene found it infuriating and depressing that she had had to resort to that. That her formative years had been spent in isolation, that no one had been around to respond to her thoughts and questions, and she that still had to rely on her own imagination for companionship.

Her parents tried everything - hired tutors, brought in princesses from neighboring kingdoms to be her friends, bought her puppies... The problem was that the tutors treated her like a child - she was not a child. The princesses treated her like any other girl raised in palace - she wasn't that either. And the puppies, well, they just encouraged her personification of friends that could never respond to her the way she needed.

Maybe it's because Eugene grew up surrounded by children that were just not quite where they were supposed to be in life, or maybe because he also didn't have a place he truly fit in, but he seemed to have a better handle on her than anyone else. When she wanted to go on secret adventures, he showed her the right way to tie the sheets and the safe way to wrap them around her torso and spotted her as she belayed down the battlements. He talked to her like she was an adult, but explained things without hesitation.

Then there was the side of Rapunzel that was much more mature than anyone was truly ready for. The side that was a grown woman who'd never known affection or closeness with another human being. Whatever Gothel had shared with her was not love, and Rapunzel knew that. She was sheltered, but not at all stupid. She thrilled at physical contact with Eugene, any physical contact. She spent an entire afternoon once playing around with his hands. She'd tried reading his palm, interrogating him about all of his calluses and little scars, comparing the lengths of their fingers, the shapes of their knuckles. She experimented with every possible way they could hold hands. They had more thumb wars than Eugene thought he'd have in a life time, and when they graduated to arm wrestling, and Rapunzel became fascinated with his forearms, Eugene tabled the anatomy exploration for the evening.

Rapunzel was fascinated with many things about Eugene. "I've only just been one person before. It's so _different_ with two people! It's _amazing_. And you are not just a person, you're a _man!_ I've never known a man before. Men are wonderful."

She had no idea. And Eugene was determined that that was a lesson for far later in her rehabilitation to society. She kissed him once in the tower, and it was something she was driven to do again and again, wanting the same thorough understanding of his lips that she had of his hands, but Eugene didn't think he could tolerate that without explaining a lot of other things about his body to her. And she trusted him. She looked to him to help her, not take advantage of her. Sometimes Eugene slipped up, and didn't realize he'd dropped the ball until they were in each other's arms. He'd push her away gently, trying not to watch in fascination as she licked her kiss-swollen lips, or the way her chest heaved with her breath, or the exhilarated desire burning in her green eyes.

Was Eugene a terrible person for finding her incredibly attractive and magnetic one minute, and completely in need of his care and protection the next? He often thought about this after an encounter with Rapunzel went just a little too far and he'd retreated to his room to... calm himself down. He decided that, though he might burn in hell, it wasn't fair to her to treat her like her hormones didn't exist or like her body wasn't craving what her mind didn't yet understand. To deny her age and her emotions was maybe the worst thing he could do for her. She was trying to have the childhood she never had and grow into her place as a woman at the same time.

So, somehow, Eugene was no longer a thief or a rogue. He was the part-time boyfriend, part-time babysitter of the princess. It was incredibly awkward, incredibly exciting, and incredibly challenging at the same time. But most of all, it was all he wanted to be for now. He was up to the challenge, and he certainly wasn't willing to let anyone else step in.

Eugene finally rolled out of bed, stretching. He was sore all over. Sore in a good way. Sore from chasing her around all day every day, boosting her up so she could see over the crowd in the market, straining and keeping his own body in check when she pressed against him for a good night kiss. This was the kind of exercise a man could get used to. Or would kill him. It beat hanging.

He pulled his clothes on and was about to put on his boots when he remembered one of them was filled with sand. They went to the waterfront the day before and Rapunzel was so fascinated by the fine, white sand she begged him to take some home for her. Eugene tried to explain that sand is not a limited commodity, but she didn't really believe him. The world was so limitless to her now, but at the same time, she had a lingering fear that everything would be taken away from her. Eugene couldn't stand the desperation in her eyes. They didn't have any containers, so somehow he wore one boot and carried the other sand-filled one home.

Emptying a nearby vase of its flowers, Eugene decanted the sand from his boot and then pulled it on, tucking the vase under one arm and finally heading out into the hall. He found her on the grand staircase, about halfway down. She waved at him energetically. Even from a distance he could see how excited she was to share her discovery.

Eugene couldn't help but smile. "Alright alright, what have you got to show me?"

"Look at this! You know I've been walking down these stairs since I moved in here and I never noticed that this would make a great slide! It's like the one at the park!"

Eugene raised an eyebrow as she patted the wide marble banister. He took his time down the stairs, hands in his pockets. "That's not a slide, Darlin'. It's a banister. Didn't you have a few of those growing up?"

Rapunzel made a so-so gesture with her hand. "They were so much thinner - I couldn't slide on them. This is perfect! Much bigger, and so high up!"

Eugene shook his head, smiling. "Too high up. Wait a sec so I can spot you."

"Don't be silly. I was swinging from the rafters long before you came along."

"Mmhmm, and you had a natural blond safety belt with you at all times."

"I'm not _helpless_ without my hair you know. I've been practicing from lower down, but it will be even better from up here! I was thinking if I can perfect it, it will be a lot faster way to get down to breakfast in the morning. Watch!"

Oh no no no. _Way_ too high up. Eugene shot out his hands. "No, wait! It's not-" He raced down the stairs, but not fast enough to stop her from hopping up on the banister and sending herself careening down.

At first, she was thrilled. Laughing as she gained speed. It stopped being fun when she lost complete control, and her laughter turned to shrieking. Eugene dropped the vase and tried to beat her to the bottom and catch her, but she was going way too fast. Several guards across the hall on the bottom floor hustled to break her fall but they were also too slow, and she was flung off the end of the banister to the floor in a heap, letting out a strangled cry on impact.

Eugene jumped the last four stairs and raced to her side, swallowing his heart and trying to stay calm. "Rapunzel! Are you okay?"

She clearly wasn't, crying like a wounded animal. She was cradling her left arm, which had broken her fall, against her chest. Everyone in the hall noticed it was bent in a very odd, very unnatural way.

Eugene knelt beside her, fear and concern binding him to her like a vice. "Okay okay, let me see, just-"

But she was inconsolable, staring down at her wounded arm, eyes wide with horror and pain. She'd probably never had a serious physical injury before. Maybe she got splinters and skinned knees romping around her tower, and even then, wrap her hair around it and sing a few trills and it's all better. She had no idea how to cope with or even understand what was happening to her.

Eugene shouted at the nearest servant to call the physician and tried to concentrate on calming her down. Eugene knew the basics of setting injuries - but he would never risk it with her when he could very well make matters worse. "You're going to be okay. I know it hurts."

"Make it _stop!_" She looked at him as if she fully expected he could do just that. He could do everything else for her - answer her burning questions, cut off her hair, understand her requests, hold her when she was scared and set her on fire with a kiss - so why couldn't he do this?

"Doc Celeste is coming, he's going to make it stop, I promise. Just breathe for me, okay?"

But she could hardly breathe with all her crying, and just looked confused and devastated. Eugene held her as best he could until the doctor came and she was ferried off to her room, Eugene holding her right hand the whole way. The bone had to be set immediately to heal properly, and the best Celeste could offer was some brandy to numb the ordeal, but she sputtered and coughed when Eugene tried to give it to her and screamed bloody murder as the doctor pushed and pulled her arm back in order. Eugene's heart broke a little every time she yelled and there was nothing he could do, and it took all his self control not the throttle the doctor for causing her more pain in the process of fixing her.

Once her arm was wrapped and in a splint, Celeste had the time to get herbs and make a sleeping draught, which she gulped down and then promptly passed out.

* * *

"I tried to catch her, we all did, but she was just too fast."

The King held up a hand, anxious eyes trained on the sleeping form of his daughter. "Mr. Fitzherbert, I understand. This is not your fault. She has a nose for trouble and you can't always be there to keep her from it."

Eugene wanted to stubbornly refute that, but even he wasn't that full of himself. He was a hell of a guy, but there was only one of him. He couldn't be at the top and the bottom of the stairs at the same time. But he should have been next to her to begin with, should have held her and walked her down the banister if she was so intent on sliding. He should have gotten up when she called him the first time. She gave him the chance to keep up with her, he was just too lazy.

The King sighed. "Whatever you are thinking, I advise you to stop. Guilt is not a fitting expression for you."

Eugene couldn't help but snort at the king's observation, and he shrugged it off by reaching out to brush a strand of dark hair from Rapunzel's forehead. He liked teaching her about delight and surprise a lot better than teaching her about pain.

The king cleared his throat. "You'll be glad to know that I've already invited a few people in for interviews to be her caretaker."

Eugene snapped to attention, unable to contain his unhappy surprise.

The King kept on, "Of course, her mother and I consider ourselves her primary guardians, but we are not quite spry enough to be always keeping an eye on her."

Eugene frowned. "Your majesty, I admit I could have been more alert this morning, but Rapunzel does not need a _nanny_. I can take care of her. It won't happen again-"

"This is not a criticism of you. You are a young man with your own life to be concerned with. You shouldn't be held down by raising a princess."

But Eugene didn't feel held down. He felt liberated. Having a purpose was freeing. It meant he didn't have to run around like a chicken with his head cut off, stuffing random objects of value in his pockets in pursuit of a goal he wasn't even sure he wanted to achieve. Helping Rapunzel fit into her own skin was his goal, now. Eugene swallowed. "Are you kicking me out?"  
"Not at all," said the King. "I hope you will still be a dear friend of my daughter's. But it shouldn't be necessary for you to be her constant supervisor. You can't be everything for her. You shouldn't have to."

But Eugene _wanted _to. He liked his new identity - Rapunzel's everything. It made him feel good about himself, and not in the inflated, trumped up way. He actually felt good about himself as a person. Was that too selfish? Should he be backing off?

"Well, I am off to meet with a few prospects. Why don't you come by later? Perhaps you can help me choose, you know her better than anyone."

Eugene watched him leave, glad for the invitation but dreading it at the same time. He got to choose the person who was going to take his place at Rapunzel's side, and cluck and scold her, and tell her what was appropriate and ladylike. An escort. Something told him he wouldn't have to worry about curbing Rapunzel's kissing instincts as much. It would be easier, but a lot less fun.

"Eugene?"

Eugene looked up to see Rapunzel blinking awake, her hand searching out his immediately.

He held her tiny one in both of his, scooting his chair closer to the bed. "Morning, Princess."

She glanced down at her arm, frowning. It was tucked neatly against her in a sling.

"You had quite a spill there, huh? You feeling okay?"

She nodded. "It just feels numb."  
"Yeah, Doc Celeste gave you something for the pain. Let me know if it starts to hurt again, and I'll call for him."

"Eugene?"

"Hm?"

"I don't know if I like feeling things."

He couldn't help but crack a smile at the silly, simple way she stated her thoughts sometimes. "What do you mean?"

"Pain... it comes from nerves, right? My tutor was telling me. We have senses and those senses tell us when something hurts."

"That's true. But feeling things is great. Look what else your arm can feel." Eugene reached over to her good arm, tickling his fingertips up her wrist and the inside of her elbow.

She laughed, squirming a little, a carefree, open smile curving her lips.

He plucked a stray feather from the comforter, tracing it along the back of her hand and her arm, eliciting more laughter.  
"How do you do that?" she gasped. "It doesn't feel like that when I do that."

"Tickling is weird," he agreed, setting the feather aside. "You can only feel it when someone else does it to you. I don't know why. Anticipation, maybe?"

"Can I tickle you?"

"I'm not very ticklish." A complete lie, but if she knew, he would never be safe again. She'd find out, in due time.

"Oh. What other sensations are there like that? That you need two people to feel?"

Eugene bit back a thousand words, a thousand different ways he would _love_ to make her feel. Instead, he picked up her hand and pressed his lips gently to her knuckles. She stared, unabashed. He felt her watching him as he carefully kissed the inside of her wrist, taking his time, varying location and pressure, and ever so lightly scraping his teeth over her pulse point before withdrawing and meeting her gaze.

She was wide awake now, unblinking, an unmistakable heat in her eyes. "Eugene," she said, softly.

"Hm?"

"I have that feeling I was telling you about, in my stomach. I think it means I want you to kiss me."

Maybe the mood should have been ruined by her childish verbalization of her confused feelings, but Eugene was increasingly immune to that, damned as he may be. He leaned forward, bracing his elbow on the sheets, careful not to touch her injury, and pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, feeling her go still beneath him, strung like a bow. When he started to withdraw, she reached her good hand up and grabbed the front of his vest, pulling him closer to her as she took the lead and deepened the kiss.

He was glad she was taking control, it meant she was getting comfortable and confident, more familiar with her desires. On the other hand, it made it very difficult for him to relax, it would be so easy to let go completely and kiss her thoroughly , and the better she got at this the more difficult self control was and the more on guard he had to be. When she hesitantly parted her lips and snuck her tongue out to meet his, these thoughts were completely abandoned. His free hand rose to cup her jaw, angling her for better access as he took the lead, penetrating her mouth more deeply, stroking his tongue along hers . She moaned, low and throaty and needy, and the sound was like an electric shock, sending him packing back to his own chair.

Eugene screwed his eyes shut, only opening them again when his heart rate slowed to a more controllable speed and the tightness in his groin dissipated _slightly_. Rapunzel was touching her lips with her delicate fingertips, studying him quizzically. "Why do you always stop like that?" she asked between heavy breaths. " You always stop when it feels so _good_."

The way she said _good_ made him clench the arms of the chair to keep from pouncing on her. He paused, taking a few deep breaths until he felt confident his voice wouldn't come out strangled. "You know... have you..." she worked best with clear, fitting analogies when it came to abstract concepts. Like sexual hunger.

Hunger. He could work with that. "Have you ever had a really amazing dessert, and you take one bite and it's so good you just want to devour the entire thing?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yes! Yes. The mousse we had, the day before yesterday, it was delicious!"

Eugene nodded helplessly. "It's like that."

"You're afraid you'll devour me?"

"Basically."

"But it doesn't hurt. Wouldn't being devoured hurt?"

Eugene stifled a groan, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Hopefully not, in this case. Actually, no, never. I won't hurt you. I promise."

Well, contextually, some pain is good but he wasn't going to get into caveats with her at this point.

She perked up. "Does that mean you'll devour me someday? Soon?"

Eugene laughed the laugh of a tortured man. "You know what? That was a bad analogy after all. Let's just say you're not ready for what happens after _good_."

"I feel ready."

"Yeah... trust me. You're not."

And with that, she seemed completely content, settling back into the pillows. "I do trust you, Eugene." She peered over at him. "I trust you. But I'm not going to stop bothering you about it."

Eugene smiled, letting just a little drop of the smolder hint through. "I can accept that."

She giggled and blushed, sitting up a bit as Eugene reached for the book he'd brought in, something about modern art, which he found boring but she found fascinating and all he wanted to do for the rest of the afternoon was read to her and distract her from bad feelings with good ones. Especially if it was his last afternoon as her everything.

* * *

A/N - This was in response to my friend **Qwi Xux**'s prompt: "Pillow. Sand. Bannister." Thanks for the inspiration! *hugs*

Huge thanks to **Sekihara Tae** for beta-ing! You are a lifesaver. You are also my idol. How can I con you into writing Tangled fic?

I have a couple other ideas for vignettes about Eugene that are loosely tied to this one... maybe what life would be like once this caretaker comes in, etc, so this may or may not be a one shot.

Any and all feedback is appreciated!


	2. Nostalgia

"Next."

"But, I-"

Eugene shook his head. "Next."

The king of Corona sighed, wondering if he'd made a gigantic mistake in letting his daughter's... man... take part in the hiring process. "Fitzherbert, really. You didn't even let her speak."

"Didn't have to. She used to be headmistress of Lucia's Home for Girls. You know how they treat their girls there? I do. Next."

The portly woman drew herself up and huffed, storming out of the hall.

"That was the thirty-sixth applicant you've dismissed," the king said gruffly, flipping to the next resume. "Perhaps you should be less critical."

Eugene rolled his eyes. "_Perhaps_ you should pre-screen these resumes for drunkards, embezzlers and child-abusers."

"What about Sir Cohen? He had a sparkling history."

"The cavalry drill sergeant? You're kidding, right? Have you ever tried giving your daughter an order? It's hilarious." Eugene scanned the resume now in front of him, stopping after only a few lines. "Don't even bother letting this next one in. She lost a game of poker to me once. Sore loser. Whoever watches Rapunzel better be good at losing. That girl is a _beast_ at board games."

The king rubbed his temples, gathering the remaining applications into a stack. "Let's call it a day, shall we?"

* * *

In truth, Eugene would much rather be watching Rapunzel than looking for his stand-in, but he really didn't want to leave the decision up to the king, who tried hard but didn't truly know what his daughter needed. Was it really unreasonable to want Rapunzel's chaperon to have a sense of humor, boundless energy, be capable of carrying an impromptu duet _and_ not be an incredibly good-looking guy? Eugene didn't think so.

He finally found Rapunzel in his room, curled up on the window seat. She was looking out over the rainy lawns and humming some variation of her healing song, which kind of creeped him out. She'd been pretty subdued since her injury, and hadn't caused much mischief over the past few days despite the fact that Eugene had been busy with the interviewing and not around her as much. At least he was glad that she thought of his space as a place she could retreat, and his mood lightened just looking at her.

"Hey," he said, pulling himself up next to her. "You should have seen the loonies that came in today. I wouldn't let them near you even if you had a private guard. Don't worry."

She smiled slightly, poking his leg with her big toe. "I do have a private guard. A one-man private guard. He's pretty amazing."

He gave a small salute, noting the missing grin, singing and spazzing-out that usually occurred upon his entrance. "Something wrong?"

She hesitated, fumbling with the hem of her dress. "...no."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I don't believe you."

She smirked, staring at her toes. "Sometimes I wish you were as oblivious as everyone else here."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Eugene reached out to tilt her chin up, gently forcing her to look at him. "But I'm not oblivious, so you better tell me what's wrong before I start thinking it was something I did."

Her eyes softened, and she automatically leaned into his touch. "It's nothing you did. I just... I don't really want to talk about it."

"_Really_? Not even if I let you poke and prod me like a science experiment?"

She perked up significantly. "Actually," she said, the familiar eagerness sneaking back into her voice, "I was hoping to ask you about the scars on your arm."

"That seems like a fair trade." He made a big show of folding up the edges of his sleeve and holding out his arm as if it were a prize. Scars were always one of her favorite topics - it had taken her a long time to understand that usually injuries had to heal slowly, and sometimes never completely healed at all. She still didn't understand that most people didn't like the marks they left. To her, they were 'memories written on your skin!' She drew her knees up to her chest and excitedly snatched up his arm with her good hand, settling it on top of her knees so she'd be free to poke at it.

Rapunzel's fingertips were light on his skin, tracing along the jagged, pale line that crossed his elbow. "This one?"

"That's from a bar fight. Broken bottle."

She rolled up his sleeve a little further, trailing her thumb over one of his uglier scars, still pink and patchy. It used to be a lot worse - Eugene winced thinking about the bubbling mess it was a few months ago. "And this one?"

"A smith threw a horseshoe from the fire at me when I stole my sword."

"You stole your sword?"

"I stole everything I own." No point lying about it now.

Rapunzel turned his arm over and peered at a tiny white mark on his bicep. "What about this one?"

"I don't know... I've had that one for as long as I can remember."

She sighed, looking down at her own arm. "I don't have any scars at all. Not one." She raised her sling slightly. "The doctor said this was going to heal up just fine. No damage."

"That's good... right?"

She shrugged, looking out the window, lips turned down at the corners just enough for Eugene to notice. "Yeah, I... I guess."

Eugene cocked his head, looking out over the lawns to find what she was staring at, but there was nothing unusual to see. She'd been doing that more and more often, staring out into space at nothing at all. "You guess? What's running through that head of yours?"

After several long moments, she finally looked down, shrugging. "It's nothing."

"We had a deal."

She shook her head. "I told one of my tutors and they were horrified."

"Your tutors are light-weights."

"They said that I shouldn't think about it. Shouldn't talk about it. That it would make my mother cry."

Eugene studied her down-turned face, the hollow slump of her shoulders. She had a way of living at extremes. One moment overjoyed, the next completely crushed. One moment doing acrobatics, the next slouched and broken. It was nerve-wracking at times, but unsurprising. Finally, he said, "I won't tell the queen."

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"I think you've been through stuff that no one should have to go through. If you _weren't_ a little troubled, I'd be concerned."

She looked up, glancing towards the door as if to gauge if anyone was listening before she leaned forward a little, speaking in a whisper. "Eugene... sometimes I get homesick."

He blinked, glancing around his room. They were in the palace. It wasn't out of the question that Rapunzel could feel nostalgic about a place she was currently sitting, she did have interesting moods. But he was still confused.

She bit her lip, clearly embarrassed. "For my tower."

_Okay, don't look shocked. Don't look surprised. Don't look puzzled or confused or disturbed._ Eugene learned that the best way to react to Rapunzel's very strange ideas was to try to act like it was a normal thing to say. Otherwise she got self-conscious and didn't want to talk about it anymore. And this was _definitely_ not something she should let stew inside herself. "Oh?"

She searched his face for all of the feelings he was trying to hide. He guessed she didn't find them, because she finally nodded. "I know it's weird. I mean, I spent my life trying to get out of there. The day I left was the best day of my _life_. Well, besides the day after that. And most of me never, _ever_ wants to go anywhere near there again."

Eugene let out a breath. That was all very reassuring.

Rapunzel continued. "But I... I don't know how to explain it. It's just... sometimes I wake up, and I don't know where I am. Everything is so unfamiliar. None of the things I spent every day looking at are anywhere. Nobody here knows what it was like to be in there, they don't understand my references. Everything I made, everything I did, everything I knew for eighteen years is just gone. Everyone here wants me to act like it never happened. I don't even have a scar. I don't even have a mark to say 'this is from being kept in a tower for eighteen years.'"

She smiled. She clearly wanted him to laugh at her joke, but he just couldn't. It was the opposite of funny to him. She deflated even more. "Sometimes I think I'm going to just snap out of it," she mumbled. "And be right back where I started, talking to myself. If I just had... _something_, I don't know. It's so disorienting. Am I making any sense at all?"

"I..." Eugene struggled for words. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to see her close up when he was the only one she felt he could talk to. She was looking at him with wide, lonely eyes, and he knew she was afraid of judgment. "Come here."

He meant to pull her into his arms, but she went one step further and crawled into his lap, pressing her face into his neck, carefully tucking her sling between them. He settled his arms around her, leaning his chin atop her head and slowly stroking her back. "I want you to know," he said softly, "that you aren't alone here. I might not always understand what you're going through, but I _always_ want to know what you're up against, okay? We'll figure this out, I promise."

It would be a tough promise to keep, but over the last few weeks, Eugene had become a man of his word.

* * *

Rapunzel looked down from the window of the coach. She was piled in with her parents and a few servants, off to judge a pie-making contest and crown the winner of the Little Miss Corona pageant. These were things the king and queen wouldn't usually do, but they considered them practice for Rapunzel to learn how to handle real diplomatic and ceremonial events. "Are you sure you can't come with us?"

Eugene made sure her skirts were tucked in before shutting the door behind her. "I have some errands to run." Also he always felt awkward at such events. He wasn't a member of the royal family or even a contributing member of society. "Eat some extra pie for me, okay?"

She brightened considerably. "Okay!"

She waved excitedly as the carriage pulled away, and he gave a wave back as he watched it trundle down the road. It was strange to watch her leave the castle without him. There hadn't been many times since they'd met that he didn't know exactly where she was.

He shook off the feeling, climbing onto the horse that he'd already readied for his day. It wasn't Maximus, these errands required a more docile mount. He didn't take much - some food from the kitchens for lunch on the road, a big empty sack, and his Flynn Ryder bag. This bag contained his usual hero/thief supplies - flint, a knife, some rope, lock picks, herbs for contraceptive brews, etc.. . He should probably take those out before Rapunzel saw them and inquired. He wasn't prepared to explain them to her yet. He used to think a man should be prepared for love or adventure at all times. Now he felt like he had to be prepared to see his girlfriend careening down the staircase. Or maybe finding another tower to lock herself in.

His first stop was in the shadier part of town, quite far from the palace. He tied his horse up at the gate and just stood there for a long time, but then he berated himself for his hesitation. This was the _easy_ stop. If he couldn't do this, there was no way he could accomplish what else he'd set out to do. If he was lucky, he'd get everything he needed here and wouldn't even have to go to the next place.

Finally he pushed through the gate, the old iron squealing just like he remembered. The little front courtyard was empty, a few books and some toys scattered around the cracked flagstones. It had been more than ten years since he'd been there, and it really hadn't changed. It looked like they had just enough funds to keep the place from falling apart, but it definitely wasn't getting any better. He made his way through the front door and down the empty hallway. The kids must have been out at the park or something, because the place was silent. He remembered it as always full of noise, kids running every which way.

Everything looked so much _smaller_ now. He towered over shelves that he used to struggle to reach. Even the ceiling felt low.

He heard a gasp and looked up - the headmistress had come around the corner and stopped short.

"Goodness!" she put a hand to her heart and breathed. "Oh you scared me." She blinked. Then blinked some more, mouth open. "...Eugene Fitzherbert?"

Eugene flashed his best Flynn Ryder smile, fists on his hips. "You remember me!"

"Of course I remember you, you little terror!" She laughed, motioning him into her office. "Oh, let me look at you." She looked him up and down, shaking her head and chuckling. "My my, Eugene Fitzherbert. You were always a handsome boy. And now you're a handsome prince!"

"Not a prince," Eugene laughed. "Handsome, I'll give you."

The headmistress beamed. She was a fair bit older than he remembered and it showed, but she had the same poofy hair, the same rosy cheeks. "We've all heard about your exploits. You know," she said, "You always did say you were going to rescue the princess. And now you have. Impressive follow-through."

"Did I really say that?" Of course, rescuing the missing princess had been high on every orphan's bucket list.

"Oh yes, among other things - dragon-slaying, swimming in money, eating an entire royal banquet by yourself - I don't suppose you've done those things, too?"

"No, no, and not by myself."

She laughed. "Please sit." She took her place behind her desk. "So how are you, Eugene? My goodness. You look well."

"I am well..." he said. "Better than ever, really."

"And the princess? What is she like? Everyone on the street speaks so fondly of her."

"For once, the public has the right idea. She's amazing."

The headmistress was utterly charmed. "I always knew you only had to find the right girl and you'd fall in line."

"I wouldn't say I _fell in line_."

"But you fell in _love_!"

He wasn't going to deny it, but he wasn't quite ready to own up to it, either. "...sure."

"Is she beautiful?"

"Very."

"And kind? Tell me she's a nice girl."

"She's the nicest girl I've ever met."

"Imagine that," she said, eyes watering. "Our very own Eugene, finding our lost princess. You know she could not have done better. She is so lucky to have you."

Eugene wasn't so sure. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Lucky to have a thief?"

"Lucky to have _you_. The other children always looked up to you. And you watched over them. You always knew how to make them feel better, always protected them. You have a good heart, Eugene. I don't think you'd have been a thief if there'd been another path for you. It's really our fault for not doing better by you. We should have helped you find your way."

Eugene liked praise, but this was not what he was used to. "Handsome," "dashing," "brave," yes... but a good heart? An inspiration? It was heavy stuff and it made him squirm a little. He laughed it off, keeping his winning smile in place. "Now that you mention it, how come you were never this nice to me while I was here?"

The headmistress sighed, nodding as if to admit it. "Maybe you won't understand, but we need to be neutral with the children while they are here. We try to make sure they are safe, warm, and fed. Beyond that... we don't want them to become attached. They're not supposed to like being in the orphanage. They're supposed to _want_ to start their lives. We don't want them looking back. This is no place for a child to consider home. We want them to find their own true home."

He did understand... especially considering his recent conversation with Rapunzel. But he had the feeling that a lot of those kids could use a hug. On the other hand, if someone had tried to hug him back then, he probably would have bitten them. Or stolen their wallet. Or both.

"So," she said, "now that _you_ mention it, what brings you back here?"

"Actually... I wanted to ask your advice about something."

She raised an eyebrow. "What in the world could you ask me that someone in the palace doesn't know?"

Eugene snorted. "There's a _lot_ you know that they don't. In fact... I don't suppose you're looking for a new job?"

"Oh no, dear. My place is here."

"Worth a try... anyway, advice. Right. I know that you guys sometimes take in kids that are from... bad homes. _Really_ bad homes."

The headmistress nodded, keeping a stiff upper lip.

"Despite the fact that they were in a better place, did these kids ever get... homesick?"

"Yes of course. It was all they knew. Even children who came from empty homes with absent or dead parents got homesick. It's frightening to be removed from the familiar."

Eugene was both relieved and depressed that these feelings were normal. "Is there..." a cure? a treatment? "Have you found anything that helps them?"

"Oh, time, mostly," she sighed. "They begin to grow roots elsewhere. Good friends - they help significantly. Other than that... sometimes they're soothed by things from their old home. Some of them bring toys or dolls and the like... and that helps. But you know, nothing can ever really fix that hole for them. It's something they learn to live with." She eyed him, tilting her head. "Is this about Princess Rapunzel? Not much has been written in the papers about where she's been the last eighteen years," she added quickly, "but I can only imagine it wasn't a nice place."

Eugene didn't feel like he should be spreading rumors about the princess, but who else would it be about? "I think she's a little old for dolls."

The headmistress reached across the desk to pat his arm. "No one really feels too old for objects that bring them solace... and she has a good friend, and that's the most important thing."

Suddenly a great commotion erupted from the halls. Shouts and screams, skidding shoes, and staff members trying to hush them. The kids must be back from the park. The headmistress got up and went out into the hall. "Children. Quiet. We are indoors. We use our indoor voices." Her tone was completely cold and stern, just like Eugene remembered it. And she was right - he hadn't missed her. Though he might, now.

"There is a horse out front!" cried one of the boys. "A horse with a royal crest on the saddle! Is the princess here? Has she come to see us?"

"No, you idiot," said another. "Why would the princess visit us? It's probably a guard. Who's in trouble?"

Eugene poked his head around the corner and the hall went swiftly silent. Boys and girls of various ages, shapes and sizes stared at him, mouths gaping open.

Finally, they all broke into screams at once as Eugene stepped into the hallway. They rushed for him, bouncing up and down. They were all talking at once, so he couldn't think of what to say except "hi!"

"He's famous!" "There are posters of him everywhere!" "Didn't he used to live here?" "I am going to marry him. Watch me." "His nose looks different."

The headmistress tried to hold them back a little. "Boys and girls! Settle down. Mr. Fitzherbert is a busy man, he must be on his way."

Eugene couldn't stand the devastated look on their little faces. "Well, I'm not _that_ busy. Do kids still like stories? Or is that passé now?"

With renewed enthusiasm, he was ushered into one of the bigger dormitories. Beds were pushed aside so everyone could fit on the floor, and the headmistress produced an old, very familiar soap box. Eugene didn't need the elevated height anymore, but he put one leg up on the box for tradition's sake.

"Okay," said Eugene, digging around for his old story-teller voice and finding it pretty easily. "Once upon a time... well, a few weeks ago, I was standing on the roof of the palace, about to make the biggest theft of my life..."

* * *

"...and that's why there's sand all over the grand staircase."

The kids broke into delighted applause, and just about every single hand shot up in the room.

"Wow! Okay..." Eugene grinned. It was like coming full circle. He didn't even know how much he wanted to be accepted by his past until he was. Was that acceptance, that feeling of resolution what Rapunzel was looking for? He chose a hand at random.

"Was it scary, saving the princess?"

"The first time, no. I mean, she was a bit loopy. But she basically did it herself. The second time was scary, though. I was scared of what was going to happen to her. That witch was really crazy."

They nodded in all seriousness, wide-eyed. He picked another hand.

"When I grow up, I'm going to save a princess, too."

"You know, I hope that when you grow up no one is locking girls up in towers anymore. But if there are any, then I hope you save them. I'm sure you could." He chose one more.

"That was better than all of the Flynn Ryder stories."

Eugene was... touched. He used to stand on the same box and dream that to be true of his life, one day. And it was true. He didn't know how to be touched. It was a strange feeling. "Your life is going to be better, too."

With a flurry of thanks and kids hanging on his legs and drawings stuffed into his hands and promises of returns Eugene made his exit. He didn't have time to linger or wax nostalgic, so he rode off and left the kids with slightly more optimism about where they might be headed.

Where Eugene was headed was not as much fun.

* * *

A/N - OMG the angst, right? Sorry. For me, at least, Rapunzel is an angsty tale no matter how you slice it. Even when Disney portrays it.

Once again, thanks to **Sekihara Tae** for being a goddess of a beta. You are the best!

Thanks to: **Qwi-Xux, ignorance1, CocoRocks, Jinney, lifesend, , TTCyclone, believe-you-can, BloodyLilly, Emma Boulivier, Nanenna, AllyEmyrs, Airplane, JEHayes, Air-Quiet-Reader, Nom de Ink, raspberryseedz, katiegirl101199, NikkyPickles, Saelisk, lala, bri-chan, Astoria Goode, kogasgal27, Ningen Demonai, too lazy to login, filmyfurry, Anniliana, Puma, one anonymous reader **and **Nicoley117-TheBlueMartini** for the feedback on the last chapter! I felt really encouraged. I really appreciate it, guys!

If you are skeptical that Rapunzel would feel any kind of nostalgia for the tower, you might want to check out the wiki article on Natascha Kampusch and read section 3.4 "The House". There are countless instances of children who have been raised in captivity continuing to think of their prisons as their homes, but I think Kampusch's case is probably the most challenging for me to wrap my head around. I was actually reading about that, and I turned to my boyfriend who has a degree in psych and was all "WTF, honey? Really?" And he was all "Yeah. That happens a lot." Alas, Eugene, there are still plenty of girls kept in towers :( .

Finally, the image of Eugene on the soap box was inspired by a fanart on deviant art. I can't post links here, but if you go to deviant art and search for Palnk, in her gallery there is a piece with sketches of young Eugene. Check it out!


	3. Nausea

The first time Eugene saw the tower, his only thought was that the fates must love him. He needed a hiding place, and there one was - virtually inaccessible, easily defensible, hidden away, and with an amazing view of the surrounding countryside and any pursuers.

Once he got inside, he spent most of his time conked out in the closet. And when he was awake, he thought he was concussed because a beautiful girl was practicing bondage techniques on him with her absurdly long hair. And a lizard was cleaning his ears.

The second time Eugene saw the tower, he bled out and died.

So it wasn't until far later that his utter loathing for the place settled in. It was well and truly established as he dismounted and approached the damn thing. It was no longer a convenient hide-out nor a kinky bondage tower. It was the creepy, cruel prison in which Rapunzel had been locked for her entire life.

This time, he used the stairs. It had been a slap in the face for Rapunzel to realize that there'd been a door right under her nose all along, but then she could have swung down on her hair any time she'd wanted to - it had never been a lack of exit that kept Rapunzel in the tower.

This had to be the sickest souvenir hunt anyone had ever been on. It was eerily as they had left it. Some leaves had blown in and there was a thin layer of dust on everything, but other than that... there was the hair, heaps and heaps of it, snaking around the room. Rapunzel had been downright disturbed by the coils of brown hair that used to be attached to her head and hadn't wanted him going near it, even to use as an escape rope. It was like a limb to her. It was like someone was waving her severed arm around and proposing its use as a gardening tool. There was the dark spot where his blood had soaked into the wooden floor... and the knife, which he was just _thrilled_ to see, its edge red and crusty.

Eugene got to his feet. He meant to make quick work of things, find a few mementos and skedaddle, but there was just so much... stuff. She'd said that her entire life was in the tower and that was literally true. Every square inch of the walls was covered in some expression of her thoughts - her narrow view of reality, her naive theories of what was beyond her vision. Eugene ran his hand over a support beam that had her height recorded - one notch per year. Each of her three books was so annotated and dog-eared and doodled-in that some of the pages were nearly illegible. No books about people, nothing to tease her about what her life could be. A cookbook, a tome on geology, and another on plant life. No wonder she seemed to know the name of every flower that she saw for the first time. No wonder she was so compelled to pick up and carry around every remotely interesting rock she found. They were familiar things in a very foreign place.

There were little notes scattered around - tucked between stacks of things or tacked to the walls. They must have been left while Rapunzel was sleeping or preoccupied, because she couldn't very well have stepped out. Eugene read a few.

_"Rapunzel, I changed my mind. No red cloth. Too old for you, silly! Red is _my_ color. Your pastels suit you better. Love, Mother."_

_ "Rapunzel, couldn't wake you, my little angel! Important business - I'll be gone for a week. I left extra food in the kitchen. No, I didn't bring a book on stars. Why would you bother with those? Mommy's going to need a touch up when she gets back, so keep up that lovely soprano of yours! XOXO, Mumsy."_

Grinding his teeth, part of Eugene wanted to tear the notes down. He refrained only because he didn't think Rapunzel would want that. It felt like desecrating a grave. She'd probably kept the notes up because they were the only interpersonal contact she'd had some days. Eugene would carry on intimate conversations with household objects, too, if he didn't see another face for weeks at a time.

A glance in Rapunzel's closet (he'd been in there before, but never while conscious) confirmed that all of her clothes were pinks, purples, and other benign, faded colors. How was she supposed to grow up when her guardian treated her like she was eternally twelve?

He picked a stuffed duck up from the side of her bed. It was well-loved, practically thread-bare. He tucked it into the big sack he'd brought, along with all three of her books, a few paintbrushes that had significantly nibbled ends, and a stack of equations of some kind that looked like they'd taken a lot of work. There were a million things he could take, but what would she want? He wasn't trying to make her a replica of her childhood prison, he just wanted to bring her some things she might miss and that would make her feel less like there was an enormous blank spot in her history. He skipped all of her clothes - in fact his first order of business when he got back to the city was to get her a very sexy, very not child-like red dress.

Next, Eugene looked around her desk. He found a mug of now-dead flowers, a sheet of completed tic-tac-toe and... a diary. It was prying, but Eugene was a thief and a snoop by nature, so he flipped to the first page.

_Dear Diary_,

_Yesterday was my 17th birthday, and mother gave me this book and some hazelnut soup (YUM!). We played chess for a while but mother got irritated because I kept winning, so we stopped and I sang to her instead. I've decided to use this journal to keep track of daily items of importance:_

_bird sightings: 15 (2 cardinals, 4 robins, 1 blue jay, 3 crows, 3 brown ones I don't know the name of, and a pair of doves - so cute!)_

_strange occurrences: Pascal didn't want any turnip today. He's so moody._

_lights theories: enormous fireflies? lava bubbles? (do these exist?)_

He flipped a few more pages.

_Dear Diary, _

_Experimented with new chords today. I thought they sounded okay but the cupboard didn't think so. She's always sassing me. Mother gets upset when I say that because "objects do not speak." Obviously. I'm not stupid. It's the way the cupboard _looks_ at me. It looks at me sassily - is that a word? Does it matter?_

_I updated my star map today. I'm feel pretty confident that the stars cycle through positions depending on the season, that they move around a fixed point - my tower?_

_Daily Important Things:_

_bird sightings: 0, winter is boring_

_strange occurrences: I felt itchy all over so I ran around in circles for a while and felt a little better. A little. I think maybe I wasn't supposed to stay up here this long? Mother said I shouldn't think so much or I will hurt myself - I did not tell her that I think __all day__._

_lights theories: sparks from an enormous fire! A trick with mirrors?_

And the last entry:

_Dear Diary,_

_My birthday is in TWO DAYS! I really think Mother is going to let me go outside this year! I can feel it. 18 is old enough, right? It won't be for long, I just want to see the lights. She has to say yes. I will sing to her AND lose at chess AND tell her how pretty she looks AND use my "quiet, modest " voice and then she'll have to say yes!_

_Daily Important Things:_

_bird sightings: only 6 (2 cardinals, 2 crows, 1 brown one and 1 HAWK! I never see hawks! It's a sign.)_

_strange occurrences: the hawk! Oh, and I saw two squirrels doing something very odd. Will ask mother about this later._

_lights theories: I don't have to guess! I'm going to know!_

...and scrawled at the end...

_She said no. She said __**NEVER**__. Is this really what my whole life is supposed to be? Why do I bother?_

Eugene felt ill. It was amazing Rapunzel had as many marbles left as she did. She could have just rotted in here. Instead she'd completed some kind of twisted summer camp agenda ad nauseam. Evidence of arts and crafts, knitting, sculpting, cooking, sleeping washing, sewing... a million distractions were everywhere, closing in on him. Eugene had to get out of there. He'd been there less than an hour and he had to get out. He stuffed the book in the bag and the guitar carefully followed. Hastily, he headed back towards the window but nearly tripped on...

...on chains. Heavy, rusted iron chains. The chains that had been wrapped around her tiny frame when he came back for her. Gothel had restrained her so the witch could take her somewhere smaller, somewhere darker, somewhere obscure and hidden where Eugene could never find her, and with Eugene dead on the floor, no one would ever care to look. For a moment, Eugene wished Gothel was alive, just so he could kill her properly. Falling out of a window and turning into dust was far too dignified a death for such a colossal bitch.

Swallowing his rising bile, Eugene followed the end of the chain several feet to the trap door and out of the tower. He tied the sack to his saddle and high-tailed it out of the clearing. The last time he'd left, Rapunzel had clung to Gothel's ashy cloak and sobbed in a mix of fear, devastation, and relief. She didn't really understand what death was. Eugene's chest hurt just thinking of _that_ conversation. She'd seen dead animals, rarely. Gothel had told her about the murderers wandering the world, but it was a different thing for her to see Gothel alive one minute, and gone the next.

Eugene urged his horse on, out of the clearing, and didn't look back.

* * *

About half way back to the palace, Eugene was exhausted, sad, and just passing a tavern - one of his favorite old haunts, actually. He'd once cheated at cards there and won enough to afford a bed at an inn for a whole week. It was just about sunset, so he figured he had time for a pint before anyone would wonder where he was.

He tucked back the saddle badge that had the royal crest before he tied the horse up - government officials weren't really welcome around here, which was partly why he always fit in so well. The place was packed and lively as always - everyone knew everyone but no one _really_ knew anyone - it was that kind of a place. The bartender, a big quiet guy, nodded to him and gave him a big frosty mug of their darkest ale. Eugene really liked sleeping in a giant feather bed and eating six-course meals three times a day, but there was a gritty, sweaty charm about pubs that he kind of missed, too.

He was just starting to relax, getting into a good, deep bar-stool slouch, watching the bubbles in the glass, when there was a warm hand on his shoulder and a low, velvety voice in his ear. "Well well well, if it isn't Flynn Ryder. Where you been, stranger? I've missed you."

Eugene didn't have to turn his head to recognize Louisa. She had the sexiest voice on the planet. She also had enormous brown eyes and red curls down to her waist. But he didn't really feel like flirting. The thought made his stomach lurch. Since when did he not feel like flirting? He swallowed. "Hey."

She chuckled, swinging up onto the stool next to him and leaning over. Louisa was very conscious of her body and what it could do. Like the way she crossed her arms in front of her to further accentuate the overwhelming amount of breast that was already spilling from her corset. "Haven't seen you in over a month and all I get is a 'hey?'"

"I mean, hey, how ya doin'?" Eugene plastered on a smolder that was so fake he thought she'd get the sarcasm.

But she didn't. "There he is," she said, quirking an eyebrow. "Too high and mighty to be down here with us bottom-feeders now?"

"Just been busy."

"Romancing the princess, I hear. Lucky girl. Have you shown her 'the stallion' yet?"

Eugene groaned, taking another long swig of ale. It had only been a few weeks ago, but after the hyper sincerity required to be around Rapunzel (she didn't get sarcasm at all) remembering his old ways was a little embarrassing. Yes, he'd named his bed tricks just as he'd named his expressions. He'd named some other things, too. He had been a bit of a tool.

"I'll take that as a no," Louisa said with a laugh, scooching closer so her breasts were pressed up against his arm as she leaned in to whisper. "Honey, you're wound tighter than a thirteen year old trying to sneak into a brothel. Come upstairs with me. Princess might be a prude, but I remember being quite fond of 'the stallion.'"

Eugene drained his mug instead of getting angry. He didn't tolerate shit-talking about Rapunzel, but he wasn't about to deck Louisa just because he'd gone through an identity crisis and didn't like the jokes he used to. Louisa had been a friend to him once, when he didn't have many. Hastily he slapped a few coins onto the counter. "You know what? I gotta run."

She fisted one hand in his sleeve, running the other along his jaw. "Why the hurry? I'll give you a discount for being a national hero."

Eugene snorted. "You never charged me before."

"Before, you had 'broke' written all over you. Now you're boy toy to the princess. Times change, Love."

Eugene carefully pried her fingers from his shirt, backing towards the door and ignoring 'boy toy' for now. "Yeah, they do. Take care, Louisa."

She followed, stubborn as ever. "You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I'll give you a freebie for old time's sake. You don't know how many losers I've been with lately. At least you know how to handle a woman."

Eugene turned, waving behind him. "Thanks for the offer, give it to another lucky guy. Plenty of stallions in the sea. Or whatever."

The night air was clean and cool and fresh, and Eugene felt antsy as he mounted his horse. Antsy for Rapunzel. Antsy for home.

At the same time, he felt some remorse glancing back on the tavern. It wasn't what he was looking for. Rapunzel wasn't the only one looking for a new source of comfort. He never thought he'd tire of boozing and whoring but he had. Now he had a big blank spot in his history, too.

* * *

He'd just stepped into the foyer when the familiar pattering of approaching footsteps already had his heart racing. What did it say about him that a woman who was a professional lover made him vaguely uncomfortable now and just the sound of _her_ near him turned him on? Maybe he should be more concerned about his _own_ sanity.

"Eugene!"

But there she was, and she was beautiful, and radiant, and overjoyed to see him. She was coming down the stairs as quickly as she could without skipping any and without letting go of (what she had now accepted was) the banister. She'd been significantly more cautious since her fall.

"Hey gorgeous," he said, setting down the bag and opening his arms for her. She didn't launch herself into them as usual, careful of her wound, but she did snug right up against his chest and breathe softly into his neck and was so small and delicate he had the simultaneous urge to be incredibly gentle and fiercely protective. She messed with his instincts.

She hummed in his arms, snaking her good arm around his waist. "I missed you today," she said simply.

"I missed you, too."

She kissed his jaw, then got up on her tiptoes to kiss his lips, and he bunched his hand into the back of her dress as he fought his natural response to crush her to him. She carefully opened her lips to deepen the kiss, but after the day he'd had Eugene didn't feel in any condition to show restraint. Since he didn't want to maul her in the palace entryway, he gingerly stepped back. Instantly he regretted it, his body intent on pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.

She slapped her palm to her forehead. "Right, right. Small kisses in public - okay. Big kisses are for private."

Eugene quirked an eyebrow. He didn't remember giving her PDA lessons. He would have preferred her to go a bit longer without attaching shame to affection, personally. "Who told you that?"

"My mother," she said. "The queen, my mother. That mother. Anyway, private then. Let's go to your room!"

Louisa had been right about one thing, he _was_ wound tighter than a thirteen-year-old. Just hearing those words come out of her mouth put all kinds of images in his head. He had to calm down. Buy some time. "I smell like horse," he said. "Let me take a bath first. Then you can come in."

"I smell like pie." she said. "I'll take a bath too and meet you there. I got some things for you today, I want to show you."

She did smell like pie. She tasted like pie. He wanted to taste -

He shook his head. Then he thought about her taking a bath and shook his head again. Focus. Focus. He picked the sack up. "Yeah," he said, "I have some things to show you, too."

* * *

A/N - **Sekihara Tae**, what would I do without you? Thank you for beta-ing, as always, and being a fantastic friend 3.

And thanks to **Nicoley117-TheBlueMartini, CocoRocks, Astoria Goode, Airplane, Anonymous, JEHayes, LilRockerStar, Jinney, name, Ningen Demonai, Crescent Croissant, 4EyedBlonde, jessoyouknow, Nanenna, storyteller1425, countmewiththedreamers, dreambee, splattermusic, Qwi-Xux, DannysGhostWriter, xdzumux, pickle toes, Miana, ProfessorSpork, Lilypipo, and Fishyicon **for the feedback on the last chapter! It's good to know there are other people interested in the psychological ramifications of the story, makes me feel slightly less strange.

Finals are finally over, so hopefully I can update more frequently until class starts back up again.


	4. Ignorance

Eugene didn't think he'd ever get over Rapunzel's pajamas. He'd seen some _sexy_ lingerie in his day, but there was something about the princess in a silky shift that bludgeoned his self-control. It didn't help that she was running her palms up and down her sides.

"I love not wearing a corset," she said dreamily, staring into the fireplace. The late summer nights were starting to get cool, so Eugene kept the fire going in his room. "It's a little strange, I'm so used to the structure, but it's nice, too. I mean, I didn't wear one to bed before, either, but my nightgowns were way too small, so they ended up having a similar effect."

Eugene was only half-listening, watching the way the fabric moved under her hands, pulled against her curves. He loved when she didn't wear a corset, too.

"Anyway!" she perked up and stopped caressing herself, which freed Eugene from his fixation. "I brought slices of my favorite pies for you to try! I couldn't bring them all, so I only brought my top eleven choices." She took the lid off of the enormous silver serving tray a page had brought in with her.

Eugene had gone days without eating anything at all. He never dreamed that one day the princess would feed him the eleven best pies in the kingdom. Let alone a gorgeous, wonderful princess in a nightshirt that he swore was slowly inching up her thighs - but that was exactly what was about to happen.

"Babe, if you try to feed all of those to me, I'm going to get sick. How about a bite from each? I think I can manage that."

She acquiesced, sinking a fork into the first piece and holding it out for him to taste. One at a time he tried each of the pies. He felt like a God. He could probably summon servants to fan him with palm leaves, but he enjoyed their privacy too much.

Once they established that Eugene preferred the rhubarb and Rapunzel liked the "double chocolate death," she turned to him excitedly. "So, what do you have for me?"

Eugene hesitated. She always got so excited for presents. She rarely got them in the tower, and was tricked into believing that soup and fabric for clothes were presents and not things parents naturally provide their children. Of course, Eugene got excited for presents too - he never had parents to naturally give him things.

Now she thought she was getting a present when really all he had was some random stuff from her unfortunate past. "It's not that great..." he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Maybe we should wait for another day. I'm not full after all, let's eat the rest of the pie."

She smiled sweetly, innocently, the firelight dancing over her face. "It's from _you_!" she said. "I will love it."

"It's not really _from_ me... it's just some... stuff... I found."

"I like stuff!"

He sighed, pulling the sack over. She was too damn adorable to deny. Even if he was pretty sure that giving her this 'stuff' would make her cry. He thought about asking her not to freak out, but that would be useless. She freaked out when any person in her shoes would freak out. "Maybe I should have asked you about this first, but I guess I just didn't want you to have to think about it. I heard what you said the other day, and I wanted to help somehow."

Rapunzel eagerly took hold of the sack, pulling the drawstring apart and looking inside. Then she froze.

Eugene had never seen her expressionless before, and it made him anxious. She was the most expressive person he knew. Her face was completely blank for a long time. Finally, she looked at him. "You went back to my tower?"

Sweat broke out at the back of his neck as he struggled with how to respond. It would help if she gave him any indication of how she was feeling - happy? depressed? angry? hurt?

With Rapunzel, the truth was usually a good choice. Anyway, how could he deny it? "Yeah... that's what I did today."

She looked back into the bag, then pulled out her books, one by one, thumbing the spines. "I never thought I'd see these again..." she murmured.

He watched her pull out paintbrushes and knickknacks and all the random stuff he couldn't for the life of him justify now. He piped up quickly, nervously. "If you don't want to see them, I'll take them back, or store them somewhere. I just thought maybe these things would help you feel less like you were just randomly plopped here in the palace, but now that I think about it, that was a pretty bad idea after all, so just pretend I didn't do that, just pretend..."

He trailed off as she pulled out the guitar, settling it in her lap. She ran her hand over the body, her palm flat against the sides, the front, then soft over the strings. She sighed, low and heavy, curling inward to rest her cheek along the top, pressing her ear to the wood like she was listening for the ocean in a seashell.

She tucked her wounded arm under the neck awkwardly. "Gimme your hand," she said softly taking his left hand in her right. He scooted closer to accommodate her as she molded his palm around the neck, methodically placing his fingers over the frets. "Press there." He did as he was told.

She strummed gently with her thumb, and a small, satisfied smile lit up her face. "Isn't that just gorgeous? That chord?"

It was very pretty. _She_ was gorgeous. There was a little wrinkle over the bridge of her nose as she reached over to adjust the tuning pegs. Eugene couldn't wipe the image of those chains from the back of his mind, and every second she sat beside him, focused, enraptured by the sound of the strings, felt like it could just slip through his fingers, like she could just melt away from him. She could be in some terrible hole somewhere, chained up for that witch. She could be locked away and alone. But she was here, free, choosing him.

There were tears in her eyes now, but she blinked them away. "This is so weird," she said. "I have no idea how I feel."

He felt like an asshole. Just when she was finding her feet he goes and does something to tear open all her wounds again.

But she set the guitar aside, tucking herself up against him, twining her fingers with his. "I think... no one has ever done anything like this for me."

That wasn't what he expected. Even less so when she released his hand to wrap her good arm around him, turning into his arms. "You really listened to me," she said quietly, her breath warm over his neck. "No one listens to me. Gothel didn't. And everyone around here thinks I don't know well enough to have anything worthwhile to say. You didn't have to do this."

He closed his arms around her. "Hey," he said, "it's okay. Of course I listen to you. I asked you what was wrong, didn't I? What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't try to do something about it?"

She turned her face to smile at him, sniffling a little. "My boyfriend? Is that what you are?"

"I hope so, or I'd feel like a moron. Your dad fired me as a babysitter. I should keep at least one of my titles."

She laughed and punctuated her speech with kisses all over his face. "Eugene. Fitzherbert. You. Are. The. Best."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but you can tell me any time you want."

She pinched him, not very gently, right under the ribs, and then reached into the bag again. This time she pulled out her journal. Eugene thought the awkwardness had passed, but he was wrong.

She bit her lip, scanning a page before snapping the book shut and hastily setting it aside. "How pathetic is it that I've only been out of there for a month and already I don't recognize the person who wrote that?"

"Not pathetic."

"I had _no idea_. About _anything_."

"That wasn't your fault. You did the best with what you had. Look," he took out the last item, the notebook with all the equations and the star map she later painted on her ceiling. "What is this? I don't even know what it _means_. I couldn't do anything like this."

She shrugged, taking the notebook and putting it aside with her journal. "Just some stuff I was trying to work out. I used to have a math book but Gothel took it away after I asked too many questions. She said my brain would explode, and I _believed _her. So I had to make a lot up, it's probably all wrong."

"It's not a crime to be lied to. Gothel is the pathetic one, here. She's the one that was so desperate she stole a baby princess and raised her in a prison. She's the one that tried to keep everything from you. And she failed, even at that. She failed, and you won."

She looked at him, hopeful, but not convinced.

"Well think of it this way," he said with a smirk. "If you hadn't been in there, we wouldn't have known each other. Not that it's much of a consolation prize for missing your childhood, but you did just say I'm the best ."

She smiled then, and shook her head, in the 'you're a loveable jerk,' way that he'd come to accept as affection. "But you're wrong," she said. "If I'd grown up here like I was supposed to, we'd have met much sooner. We'd have lived in the same city. We could have been friends."

Eugene snorted, flicking a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. "That's sweet. But, no. You wouldn't have been you, you'd have been completely different. You would have screamed if you saw me in the street."

"Screamed in delight? Screamed like 'yay?'"

"Screamed like 'ah!' I'm sort of... you know, a _felon_."

She frowned, looking into the fire, a deep sadness in her eyes. "That's terrible. I wouldn't have known you..." she fumbled with the hem of her nightshirt, looking more disturbed than she had at any mention of her past. The idea that of all things _this_ was what upset her... well, Eugene had never really mattered to anyone before. He didn't know what to think.

She turned back to him, her familiar resolve in place. The girl changed moods like Eugene changed his name. "Then it was for the best!"

Eugene shook his head rapidly. "No. No, that's not what I'm saying. Forget I said that. It was a heinous crime against you. It was -"

She poked an accusing finger at his chest. "_You_, Flynn Ryder, are exactly what Gothel warned me about. You're a ruffian and a thug."

"Yep."

"You cheat, steal, lie, use women, and you cut off all my hair."

He was a little discouraged that she'd been listening so closely to what people said about him. Did she even know what 'use women' meant? He narrowed his eyes at her.

"And I am grateful you found me and not some stuffy prince who would never eat pie past midnight with me, and never go back into that tower and bring me these things, and never teach me how to fake sick to skip lessons." She crawled back into his lap, straddling him, jabbing her index finger against his collar bone. "And did you know that a stuffy prince wouldn't allow this to happen right now? I learned about it in etiquette. We're not even supposed to be touching each other. We're not supposed to be alone in the same room."

Eugene held very still. She was in a wacky mood and that meant she'd either start kissing him or beating him over the head with a blunt object.

She chose kissing, and pressed her lips gently to his forehead. There was something regal about the action, as regal as she could be clothed in skimpy pajamas, straddling a rogue. "I don't think I could stand that," she said. "Thank you for being you."

And Flynn gave some smarmy answer because Eugene hadn't yet figured out to respond to kindness.

* * *

Eugene used to be incredibly good at minding his own business. Staying out of other people's drama was key to staying incognito. He didn't want to get to know anyone, didn't want anyone to get to know him. He was the dine-and-dash type, where "dine" could be any number of nefarious activities.

He was really bad at staying out of Rapunzel's drama. Her drama was his drama. He actually kind of liked that.

In the name of said drama, Eugene stood awkwardly in the office of the court mathematician. Every surface was covered with notes, drawings, sextants, strange little globes and abacuses. Eugene couldn't do any math past long division. He never had to. He counted his money a lot, but then he spent it on cards and alcohol before the numbers got too large.

This was obvious to Caleb, the mathematician, as well. "What could you possibly want from me, _Ryder_," he sneered, barely looking up from his figures. "You must be confused, I am not the accountant - go bother someone else to borrow money."

Eugene ignored him. "Actually, I'm here about borrowing some of your time."

"Forget it. The king is my patron. I have work to do. I don't have time for your get rich quick schemes. Go prey on someone else."

If Eugene were going to buy into anyone's get rich quick schemes, it would be the guy who went from penniless to courting the princess and living in the palace overnight. But, to each his own. "It's not for me," he said calmly. "It's for the princess."

Caleb raised a disorderly eyebrow.

"I was thinking you could take some time every week to tutor her a little. She's being educated about history and ethics and all that crap, but she's actually really interested in math and I think she'd be a good pupil. She's a very fast learner."

Caleb sneered. "Court gossip implies _you_ would know. But I don't know a thing about smoldering and hanky-panky, so I'll abstain."

Eugene raised an eyebrow. "Did you just question her honor in front of me? Really?"

"I'm not scared of you. What are you doing to do? Tell the king? Who will he blame for that rumor, do you think?"

"Leave the hanky-panky to me," Eugene said, growing irritated. "I'm asking you to be her _math_ tutor."

"Please. The princess spends her days deep in conversation with flower arrangements. I don't have time to teach her basic addition."

"She doesn't spend her _days_ doing that." (Okay, maybe her afternoons.) "And she already knows addition. She already knows a _lot_. She's very bright."

Caleb finally set down his pen. "If that's so, then why hasn't the king consulted me about this?"

"The king thinks it would overwhelm her, but I think he's wrong. I think it would be fun for her. She loves to learn."

"If she's so giddy about mathematics, why hasn't she approached me herself?"

"Because she was raised to think that if she learned advanced math her brain would explode."

"Well it may, if she's as deranged as the rumors say."

"_Watch it_," Eugene said, stepping closer to Caleb. He wanted to say _you teach this girl math or I'll bash your skull in_. But instead he said "How about this. Play one game of chess with the princess. If she wins, you give her lessons. If her intelligence is so deficient, you shouldn't have any trouble preventing that."

"And if I win?"

Eugene smiled. "If you win, I won't bother you again. Otherwise I'm about to become your very best friend. I like rhubarb. Do you like rhubarb? Let's get some rhubarb crisp in here. What's it like being a mathematician? I think you don't get much time with the ladies if you're using terms like 'hanky-panky,' but I could be wrong, I mean some ladies go for the socially inept asshole type. Me? I'm more like a socially talented charming gift from the heavens. I'm _really_ talented. I could teach you a thing or two if you want, I mean, I could -"

"_ONE game_, Ryder. One."

* * *

Eugene watched Rapunzel tuck her skirts under legs as she took a seat at the chess table in the king's study. She was extremely excited - she liked meeting new people and she liked playing chess. She didn't even care about winning. She just liked being challenged.

Eugene leaned against a pillar a fair distance away and watched. Caleb insisted that Eugene stand _behind_ Rapunzel so he couldn't signal moves to her, which was a riot. Caleb had it backwards. Normally Eugene would find watching a chess game exceptionally boring, but he had a feeling this was about to get rewarding. Besides, Rapunzel had cute mannerisms when she was thinking.

A few of the guards were watching, as well. One of them stood beside Eugene, and leaned in to whisper. "You a betting man, Fitzherbert?"

Eugene was about to spout out his now habitual response about changing and growing and blah blah blah, but actually... he did need some money. He had something he really wanted to buy, and he only had about half the money. He could borrow money from the king, but this was something he wanted to buy on his own. "Sure," he said. "Five hundred crowns on the princess."

The guard looked delighted, like it was too good to be true. Caleb was the city's reigning chess champion.

But Blondie was Blondie.

Caleb played recklessly at first, even Eugene could see that. He tried to trick her into an easy checkmate, assuming she couldn't think ahead. He tried several more stunts before he seemed to accept that Rapunzel actually knew how to play. His moves took longer and longer, he brow grew more and more furrowed.

By hour two, he was in another world - slouched over the board like a gargoyle, chewing on his fingernails. Rapunzel was in perfect order, swinging her legs back and forth occasionally, fingering imaginary guitar chords in her sling. Sitting still for hours and hours was old hat to her.

By hour four, Caleb was a mess. He was down to his king and a knight against Rapunzel's pair of bishops. He ran from her until she forced a checkmate. He stared at the board, jaw slack.

She grinned, but not in a bragging way. "That was a fantastic game!" she said. "That was the best game I ever played! You are really good. Would you like to play again? Can I be white this time?"

Caleb just stared at her, one of his eyebrows twitching, while Eugene discretely collected his winnings. "What _are_ you?" Caleb spat, standing from his chair. "Some kind of savant?"

Rapunzel cocked her head. "What is a savant?"

"It's a fr-"

Eugene interrupted, clearing his throat. "He was remarking how brilliant you are. She _is_ brilliant, isn't she, old chum?" He moved to stand behind Rapunzel's chair, shooting the mathematician a menacing glare.

Caleb swallowed visibly, then nodded.

"_And_," Eugene added. "She's your new pupil! Caleb has agreed to tutor you in math, Goldie."

Rapunzel stood up too, clasping her hands together. "Really? That's _great_! Let's start _now_!"

"Later," Eugene said, slipping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her from the room to leave the court fathead to collect himself. "I want to take you out to get you a _real_ present."

* * *

The shop owner had the same reaction to Eugene that every other merchant had - fear and paranoia. She flushed, rushing out from behind the counter with outstretched hands. "Oh, uh, _sir_, you won't find anything you want here, move along now." She was obligated to call him sir now that his role in rescuing the princess was public knowledge, but she was still afraid he'd rob her for all she had. And screw her daughter.

Eugene raised an eyebrow. "It's not for me, it's for her."

Eugene opened the door wider and Rapunzel skipped in behind him, her face lighting up. "_Eugene_, look at the _colors_," she gushed, running over to a pile of silks.

It was one of the few shops in the city that made dresses intended for tailoring, rather than having to order them from scratch. Eugene wanted Rapunzel to be able to take something home with her.

The shop owner flushed deeper, floundering into a deep curtsy. "Your highness! It's an _honor_."

Rapunzel smiled, bobbing a curtsy back. "The pleasure is mine! This is a beautiful store!" She turned back to the silk, glowing with enthusiasm. "I can pick my own dress, Eugene?"

"Sure," he said, "whichever one you want."

"This is exciting! My maids always pick out my clothes, and in the tower, I only had a few dresses."

Rapunzel headed straight for the pinks and purples, running her hands over the smooth fabrics. "One of these?"

"All of your clothes are those colors," he said. "That's fine, if that's what you want. But what about a different color?" He gestured too casually to a rack with red dresses.

She shook her head, shrugging shyly. "Oh no, red is too grown up a color for me."

Eugene raised an eyebrow. "Surprise, Sugar, you're an adult."

Her eyes widened for a moment, before she looked quite pleased with herself. "I am!" Her gaze darted back to the rack by which Eugene was now standing, and she bit her lip. "I have always wanted a red dress."

"Nothing stopping you."

"I don't know..."

"Why don't you try one on? Can't hurt. If you don't like it, we won't get it."

She looked around, as if someone might catch her doing something naughty, and skittered over to the racks, digging into them with relish. "No velvet," she breathed, flipping to the silk. "Gothel always wore velvet."

"Who needs velvet?"

Rapunzel admired several gowns before she found one that made her gasp. She didn't have to be told twice to take it into the dressing room. The shop keep went in with her to help her change around her sling. After a several minutes and a lot of rustling, the shop keep emerged with a curtsy and took her place back behind the counter. Someone called to her from the back room, and she gave Eugene one last reluctant, suspicious look before leaving the room.

Eugene stood around for a long time. Finally, he nudged the curtain a bit. "You okay in there?"

"...yes."

"Come on out and let me see."

"I... I don't know."

"It doesn't fit?"

"I don't know... am I supposed to look like this?"

"Come out and I'll tell you."

"Can you come in here?"

Eugene glanced around the shop - it was empty, and the shop keeper was still in the back room. He didn't really care if he scandalized anyone, but he didn't want to tarnish Rapunzel's reputation this early on. Plus the king would have his head if the next day's papers had headlines about the princess's "hanky-panky" in a dress shop. He ducked behind the curtain. It was very close quarters, so he had to stand right up behind her and look over her shoulder into the mirror.

The dress was made for her. Its deep burgundy color made her skin look creamy, and the blush tinting her cheeks even more pronounced. It complimented her dark hair and brought out her eyes even more. Rapunzel plucked at her middle, where the material was a little loose. "I think it's too big for me."

Eugene shook his head. "Just needs to be tailored a little." He gathered the fabric at the back to simulate how it might look after alterations, and he heard Rapunzel's intake of breath.

She looked absolutely stunning. The bodice was just structured enough to accentuate her curves, an enticing amount of cleavage peeking over the low neckline. The silk stretched over her flat stomach and flared out at her hips. Rapunzel was slender, but it was obvious she'd been hiding a lot behind ill-fitting clothes and then stiff court gowns.

"I love it," she breathed, studying herself in the mirror. "Do you really think I can get away with wearing this?"

He smirked. "Get away with it?" He brushed her hair back so he could press a kiss right under her ear. "I think it would be a crime for you _not_ to wear it."

She smiled, tilting her head to the side subconsciously so he could kiss his way down her neck and over her bare shoulder. He could feel her heart beating as she watched him slide his hands down her sides to her hips, separated from her skin only by the thin, slick fabric.

She pushed back against him, her eyes fluttering closed. She felt amazing, so soft and alive in his hands. Her head fell back against his chest when he pulled his palm up over her stomach, slowly, making her muscles twitch, making her arch into his touch. He shifted his hand higher and to the side, fingers just brushing the side of her breast. He looked up into the mirror to see her coming undone in his arms, her lips parted as she hesitantly pressed her hand over his, urging him to take more of her into his hand.

Her green eyes slowly opened and met his in the mirror, wide and burning and hungry. She was so desperate to be touched. She'd waited far too long already. Who was he to deny a princess? He cupped her breast, gently at first, then more firmly at the sound of her quiet moan. Her nipple grew hard under his palm - it would be so easy to push the fabric aside and feel her skin on his. His thumb hooked over her neckline as he dipped his head to kiss her neck again, feeling her pulse under his lips, grazing his teeth along her skin.

The curtain flew open and Eugene snapped back like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A _really sexy_ cookie jar.

But it wasn't the king on the other side (and why would it be? The king didn't shop much.) It wasn't a guard either. It was a rather large woman in a starched grey dress, her full face completely red, standing beside the shop keep, who must have been her informant. "What is the meaning of this?"

Eugene blinked. "Who are you?"

The woman yanked Eugene from the changing room, her glare shifting from him to Rapunzel and back as if unsure who to rail on first. "I am Princess Rapunzel's new chaperon, and I can see I have my work cut out for me. Who are _you_?"

Rapunzel giggled, glancing at Eugene shyly. "He's my _boyfriend_." Apparently she really liked what she was discovering boyfriends could do.

"Princesses do not have boyfriends, they have _suitors_, and-"

Eugene held up a hand. "Chaperon? Wait a minute, on whose orders?" He definitely didn't interview her!

"The king's!" she said with a huff. "He hired me on the spot today while you were busy turning her into a... a hustler! A chess shark!"

Rapunzel was completely dazed, still dizzy from their brief encounter. "I don't know what a hustler is," she said, "but I know I'm not a shark. I'm a woman."

She was so adorably clueless sometimes. Shit, had he just been feeling her up? He was a cradle robber. No, he wasn't. He was liberating her. Right.

Right.

"We will discuss your status at a later time. You, young lady, change out of that... that _siren_ ensemble and stop staring at him like he's God's gift to women. And _you!_" She turned her finger-wagging on him. "_You_ are going to be _difficult_, aren't you?"

"Probably."

The governess pushed herself behind the curtain and rushed Rapunzel back into her normal clothes, giving Eugene a glare that clearly said _you stay at a suitable following distance or I will remove your manhood_.

So, he stayed behind and bought the dress.

* * *

MEGA A/N - Never thought I'd write "hanky-panky" four times in one chapter, but there you have it.

This fic will probably turn M-rated eventually, but probably not for a while, so I'm gonna leave it at T for now.

Lots of notes today! First, always first! **Sekihara Tae**! You are a beta of legend. Thank you thank you thank you for always saving me. And get well soon!

Also thanks **Airplane** for the pep talks and helping me puzzle through some stuff for this chapter.

Thanks to **Kumorigoe** (hey! long time no see!), **Esmerelda Diana Parker, LilRockerStar, Pickle Toes, Airplane, Ningen Demonai, Jimney, Clawdeen Wolf, Barbiegirl 22, JEHayes, katiegirl101199, storyteller1425, Lilypipo, Dame Hetchel, Nanenna, ProfessorSpork, CocoRocks, How to Train Your Moosie, LinkandZeldaForever0329, 4EyedBlonde, Vampira Hannah, name, dreambee, myla84, Chibi Monkey13, Air-Quiet-Reader, flatlinedreams, RainbowPoniesAndShit, LunarBasket, Lotus-chan, Arcaina, Fishyicon, Qiwi, yuri4281, lifesend, purpleshinigami, Ummmm, aishoka, KamikazeCreampuff, Fitzwilliam **(as in Mr. Darcy, I wonder?), **starfairy14s, Juuromaru, Hiwiwy, mustbebunnies, emm297, SometimesG**,** Romance and Musicals, Darianella, artisticsoul2013, kakashisasukelover1, Kettie, D-Rae, RedBrunja, Qwi-Xux, , StuckInTheTARDIS** (best place to be stuck EVER!), **Shelbey, Queen of the Elementals 09, **and **Momoko-Kawase** on DeviantArt for all of the feedback since last time! The encouragement and the concrit is MUCH appreciated! You guys are the best!

**Ningen Demonai** pointed out that there is no blood on the knife after Gothel stabs Eugene! I went to see the film again and I noticed - you are right! How odd... well, I left the bloody knife in chapter 2, because that knife really _should_ be bloody, don't you think? And I, too, would like them to make out FOREVER.

**JEHayes** noted that Eugene probably doesn't disapprove of prostitutes. I couldn't agree more. Eugene loves ladies of the night! He just doesn't love them _physically_. Anymore. I think.

**An Anonymous Reader** mentioned _Room_. I have heard of this novel, but I'll be honest - I'm kind of afraid to read it. I am fascinated by isolation cases (obviously) but they still disturb me. The 2008 Fritzl case I'm pretty sure gave me ulcers. For all you readers interested in the psych aspects of things, you might want to check out _Room_ by Emma Donoghue, it's taking the literary world by storm. Maybe I'll work up the guts to read it this summer.

And a spelling note! Only because I'm going to be mentioning it over and over and over again in coming chapters... chaperon can be written with or without an "e" at the end. But I do appreciate the mistakes you guys point out so I can fix them. Keep 'em coming!

Alright, that was a A/N and a half. Forgive me. I just like interacting with other Tangled fans ^_^. Feel free to skip my notes in the future if you don't like banter, I don't really put anything in here you need to understand the story.


	5. Distraction

Eugene thought that getting a new chaperon for Rapunzel would have one upside - he'd be able to sleep in.

Alas.

He was jarred awake by the sound of his door rattling violently, and then frantic footsteps heading in the opposite direction. No one in the castle ran but Rapunzel, unless there was an emergency. She'd finally gotten rid of the sling, and even though her arm was still a little tender, she was back to her wild ways.

He rubbed his eyes until he cleared his sleepiness a bit and pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt, not even bothering to tuck them in or with shoes for the time being. He poked his head out the door.

"Psst!"

Eugene paused, glancing around the hall. There was no one, not even any guards. He was seemingly alone.

"Psst!"

Okay, he definitely heard it that time. He looked more carefully, and this time saw that one of the maids' closets was slightly ajar, and there were two green eyes peeking out.

He sauntered over. "Hey Blondie, what are you doing in th-"

"Shh!" Her tiny hands reached out and tugged him into the closet, closing the door behind them.

It was pitch black, and he could hear her rapid breathing as her hands fisted in the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Eugene," she whispered seriously. "I need to talk to you alone, and Geneva won't have any of it."

Geneva was Rapunzel's new chaperon. "My baby is hiding boys in broom closets now? You're becoming so devious."

"I need to talk to you about what happened the other day in the dressing room."

Eugene smirked, not that she could see it. "What happened?"

"_Everything_ happened!" she was frantic, her hands sliding up his chest to brace on his shoulders. "I can't stop thinking about it. I can hardly focus on anything else. I'm going crazy. I thought I was going to light on fire. Can that happen?"

"No. Don't worry." But this was all awfully good for his ego.

"Are you sure? Because everywhere you touched _burned_. It _burned_."

"That sounds dangerous."

"I know! We have to do it again."

He couldn't help it, he grinned. She was so adorable. He forced himself to sober. It was funny to him, but clearly she was taking this very seriously. "Alright alright, breathe. Don't worry, we'll get there."

"How about _now_?"

This laugh was harder to suppress, but somehow he managed. "Princess, we are in a broom closet," he said, perfectly serious.

"So? This is as good a place as any. Geneva is always watching me. Who knows when we'll be alone again? I can't _stand_ this."

Eugene shook his head and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I've created a monster."

She yelped, leaping into his arms. "Where? WHERE? Why would you_ make_ one?"

He shushed her, shifting her weight to hold her more comfortably and stroking her back. "There's no monster. It's a figure of speech. In this case, it means I've introduced you to something and you've become fanatical."

She took a few breaths to calm herself, then said "well is there anyone in the world who is _not_ fanatical about this?"

Eugene thought for a moment. "At your age? No, not really. It's the fun part of growing up." He winced at how old saying 'at your age' made him feel.

He could imagine just the way she glared at him. "Fun? Are you hearing me? It is fun _having_ you but it is not fun _wanting_ you. It's excruciating. I know everyone else thinks I'm already crazy, but _I_ am starting to think I am crazy."

The way she said _having_ made his groin tighten a little. He was so far gone it was pathetic. Once upon a time a professional lover would have had to exhaust all her tricks on him, and now possessive words from an artless girl got him hot and bothered.

"You're not crazy," he said huskily, nuzzling gently behind her ear. "But you _are_ going to be late for math."

"_Math_? How can you think about that right now?"

Actually, he was thinking about how Geneva was going to come looking for Rapunzel when she didn't find her in her room to escort her to Caleb's tower. Geneva had already threatened to castrate Flynn if he laid a hand on Rapunzel, and that wasn't something he felt he could explain to his current closet-mate because he didn't think she knew what balls _were_, let alone why one would not want them _removed_.

He traced his fingers along her waist, applying just enough pressure for her to feel the warmth and strength of his hands through her corset. She rubbed her cheek against his as she drew in a shuddering breath - he knew she liked to feel of his morning stubble against her delicate skin. "Tell you what," he said. "If you go get your lessons done, then I promise to think of a way to ditch your chaperon tonight, okay?"

"O-okay," she said, sighing sweetly over his collar bone.

He pushed the door open a little, and in the light he could see a deep blush tinting her cheeks before she ran off down the hall.

Eugene watched her go, leaning against the door frame. Devising a way to distract Geneva wasn't going to be hard - devising a way to satisfy Rapunzel while keeping himself in check was another thing entirely.

He decided to sneak in another hour of sleep before he tangled with that dilemma.

* * *

Caleb was a cranky-pants. At least, Rapunzel thought so. He was very cold to her, and very impatient. He didn't like answering her questions, he didn't like looking over her work, he didn't like when she got questions wrong and he didn't like when she got them right, either. Rapunzel spent their first several lessons entranced by the new material but also wishing that Eugene knew more math and could teach her instead of Caleb.

The problem with that idea was that lately thinking of Eugene made her extremely unsettled. She had very strange dreams in which Eugene taught her all kinds of things, and there was always a lot more touching involved than there probably should have been. In one fantasy, Eugene had one of her paint brushes and was doodling parabolas up her legs, starting at her ankles and getting much higher.

He drew a swoop inside her thigh, just above her knee, and she shuddered. "X-squared," he murmured.

She nodded, wide-eyed. She wanted him to _cover_ her in equations. She wanted a lot of other things, too, things she couldn't understand or visualize, but she felt instinctively that he could give them to her. If she only knew how to ask.

"X-squared."

She nodded again. "You said that already."

"I _know_ I said that, your _highness_. I didn't realize you'd heard me, because you are just _sitting_ there, _staring_ off into space."

Rapunzel blinked. She was with Caleb in his tower, a sheet of graph paper in front of her and a pencil clutched in her hand. Eugene wasn't there - he was patient with her, he didn't snap when she took her time. Eugene was more fun to be around, too.

Caleb sighed, reaching out to tinker with his abacus. He acted so much older than he was. Rapunzel guessed he was even younger than Eugene. Sometimes he lightened up, when he was talking about something about which he was very excited. Occasionally he even smiled at her, if she got a very difficult equation correct when he least expected it. He didn't have time to anticipate her success and grow bored of her, so he showed his true personality. He'd even be kind of handsome if he smiled more.

Right now, he scowled. "Graph y = x2, will you? It's simple, you've done it many times before."

Rapunzel drew the familiar swoop.

"Don't draw it from memory, do the work, plot the points, otherwise it means nothing. They're not just doodles, you know."

In her fantasy, they _were_ just doodles. Once drawn, Eugene didn't care about them. He'd set the brush aside and touch her with his hands instead, the paint smeared over her skin under his palms. What did it mean?

"Okay, seriously," Caleb said, plucking the pencil out of her hand. "What has gotten into you? I wouldn't say you're destined to be a mathematician but usually you aren't _this_ unfocused. Let's call it a day. Here -" he reached under a pile of papers on his desk, taking out a sheet of parchment. "I made you some homework. Do these tonight and we'll go over them tomorrow."

Rapunzel brightened, back in the present. "You made me _homework?_ I've never had math homework before! This will be fun! Thank you!"

Caleb gave her an odd look, his grey eyes screwed together and his lips pursed. "Are you joking?"

"No, not at all."

Caleb blinked, and continued staring at her. Finally, expression completely blank, he looked towards the door. "Show your work," he said, coolly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Rapunzel took the sheet and shrugged, exiting his office. She paused when she realized that because Caleb had dismissed her early, Geneva wasn't there to pick her up yet. She was free.

Free! For at least twenty-minutes! She liked her chaperon, but really, the woman was a bit of a wet blanket. She wasn't mean, she was just a little stifling, mainly in the Eugene department. Rapunzel used to spend every day, all day with Eugene. She'd come to take it for granted. Now she saw him very little, for about an hour in the afternoons - and they were never alone, never in private. Their stolen moment in the closet this morning was the closest she'd physically been to him since the dressing room, and the lack of contact was making her itch all over.

She rushed to his quarters. It was early enough that she might still catch him there, but he didn't answer when she knocked. Eventually, she cracked open the door and peered in. There was some noise, like a tapping, coming from his bathroom. She glanced left and right in the hallway - she wasn't supposed to go into Eugene's room, and if Geneva found out she'd get in a lot of trouble. However, it occurred to Rapunzel that when she looked for trouble sometimes very good things happened - like getting out of her tower, midnight rides with Maximus, seeing the sunrise over the sea, and kisses. She slipped into the room.

She found Eugene bent slightly over his washbasin, staring into the mirror, a straight-razor in his hand and white fluff all over his face. Weeks ago she would have panicked, would have shrieked at him to drop the blade, but she'd made it a habit not to freak out when confronted with new information. Besides, if Eugene were going to harm himself, she doubted he'd do it with that stuff all over his face. He was very vain.

He caught her eye in the mirror, seeming to smirk under all the white. "Hiya Blondie," he said. "Back again? Playing hooky? We had a deal."

She nodded. "Math got out early. What are _you_ doing?"

He raised an eyebrow, waving the razor a little, which made her anxious. "Shaving."

She climbed up onto the stool in the corner of the bathroom, tucking her feet behind the wooden rungs. She'd never seen a man shave before, never really thought about it. It made sense though - they all had different styles of facial hair. She watched Eugene carefully drag the blade against his skin, scraping away the lather and whatever stubble was underneath, she supposed. He was careful to leave his goatee.

"I've shaved before," she said idly.

Eugene slowed his movements, his eyes darting to her in the mirror briefly before back to his work. "Oh?"

She nodded. "Gothel hated hairy legs. Hated them." It was strange to speak of her in past tense. It was strange not to call her mother, but after everything she'd been through that was one thing she knew she had to let go. "She made a big deal about them all the time. She also said I was chubby. And a grubby ditz."

Eugene snorted, rinsing the razor before beginning another stroke, his voice odd as he contorted his face. "Gothel had a lot of things wrong. You can pretty much assume anything she told you was a load of crap."

Rapunzel frowned, reaching down to touch her finger tips to her ankle, finding her skin smooth as usual. She liked having smooth legs. And how would Eugene doodle on them if they were all hairy? Maybe Gothel wasn't wrong about _everything_.

"Why do men have hair on their faces? Women don't."

Another snort. "Some women do."

"Most don't."

"That's true."

"So why?"

Eugene shrugged, carefully working around his mouth, pausing once in a while to speak. "I don't know, I think once upon a time it kept our faces warm."

"But my face gets colder than yours." It was true - when they went for evening strolls she often tried to hide her face against his chest or his neck. The fall weather was chilly and her nose always got cold, it might be useful to have a beard. "And what about your voice? It's lower than mine. Why? Also, that... that thing..."

Eugene looked a little alarmed, lowering the razor a little and turning to look at her directly. "... what 'thing?'''

Rapunzel didn't know the word for it. She waved absently at his neck. "You know, that thing in your neck, it bobs when you swallow." She'd spent a good half hour marveling over it the other day, her hand gently on the front of his throat as he swallowed over and over for her amusement.

Eugene looked half relieved and half disappointed, which puzzled her. "Oh. My Adam's Apple. I have _no_ idea what that thing is for."

"There's a lot you don't know about your own body, isn't there?"

Eugene coughed, and kept quiet. Too quiet. Rapunzel knew this quiet. People got it a lot around her, especially when she asked questions about bodies. It was the _you have no idea_ quiet. Usually Eugene did not do this to her - he was good enough to speak candidly and not treat her like a child.

"_Eugene_."

"Sure there is, Goldie. I'm a mysterious man, what can I say? Mysterious even to myself. If you figure out what Adam's Apples are all about, then clue me in. And if anyone can figure it out, it's you. You could figure anything out."

Rapunzel narrowed her eyes. He wasn't patronizing her, but she found this all very suspicious since she was certain he was privy to a world of knowledge he was not letting her in on. She thought about asking him about her dreams - he had to know what they were about, he was their star _and_ they hadn't become so frequent until their encounter in the dressing room. It was like his touch had changed something in her, or made it stronger. She liked it.

Eugene splashed water on his face and then toweled off. "How was math?" he asked.

Rapunzel admired his handiwork, how clean and even everything was. "It was pretty good," she said. "Caleb even gave me homework. I think he's getting to like me more."

"Of course, everyone warms up to you."

"Does that mean you're warm to me?"

Eugene laughed in a _dear God_, kind of way. She'd asked him once to explain that laugh to her, since he did it all the time, and he had said _"It's my 'dear God' laugh."_ and left it at that. It was a wilting, laugh, a resigned laugh, and usually accompanied by his rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers or pushing her away a little of they were standing very close together. "Sure, Goldie. Warm."

She smiled, reaching her other hand up so she could cup his face in her hands. He _was_ warm, and clean, and strong, and he smelled _so good,_ especially now. "I feel the same way," she said, grinning. "Warm. Well, hot, actually. I feel all hot when I'm with you. Does that make any sense?"

A heat glowed briefly in his eyes for just a moment before he grimaced, as if in pain. She moved one hand to his forehead. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, you just have a way with words, is all."

She beamed. She always felt good when he complimented her, better than when anyone else gave her praise. "Thanks!"

He hesitated, and finally backed away from her, casually, wandering back into his bedroom. She followed, flitting about as he pulled his boots on. "Do you know how to graph quadratic equations?"

"Do I know how to what what?"

"Draw parabolas?"

"A what?"

She didn't think so. It was just a dream. A dream. She idly picked up his Flynn Rider satchel from where it was abandoned near his window. What did he even keep in it anymore?

He finished with one boot and reached for the other. "What is a parabola?"

"Oh, just a math thing. I've been learning it lately," she said, flipping open the leather flap to peer inside. "It's really cool."

"I didn't know math involved much drawing."

"Math involves everything, and everything involves math, Caleb says."

"Caleb is... quite a guy."

"I know! He is. I think he could be fun if he stopped worrying so much." She poked around - lockpicks, a knife, some flint, and two little pouches of herbs. She reached in and pulled a few out - mint leaves, made sense, Eugene always had good breath. And... "Eugene?"

He was shrugging into his vest. "Huh?"

"Why do you have this in your bag?" she waved the pouch around.

Eugene stared, slack-jawed for a moment, then quickly regained his composure. "Oh, it's just... "

"I know what they are," Rapunzel said confidently. "They're contraceptive herbs. You put them in tea to keep from having a baby."

Eugene blinked, walking towards her slowly like she might suddenly start swinging a frying pan at him, which she was known to do on occasion. "How did you know that?"

"I read about these herbs in my botany book. If you drink the tea, you won't have a baby for a few days afterward. But only women can have babies, Gothel told me, so why are you carrying them around? Was that a lie, too? Can men have babies?"

Eugene shook his head, confusion and paranoia still ruffling his feathers. "No, only women, you're right about that."

"So why do you have these, then?"

"Well..." he straightened, as if resolved. "I carry them around because it's the right thing to do. I grew up in an orphanage. This world doesn't need more unwanted children."

Rapunzel was touched. Eugene was a great guy, she always knew that, but sometimes little things like this really surprised her. "That's really thoughtful of you, Eugene."

He blinked and went back to looking at her like she'd grown an extra head. "...uh... yeah, I guess it is...?"

"I mean, you have nothing to do with the babies, but you just carry them around to be nice, in case you run into a woman who doesn't want a baby. That's going above and beyond."

More blinking. "Wait," he said slowly. "Where exactly do you think babies come from?"

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow - she was naive, but this was pretty basic stuff, wasn't it? "A big blue heron comes along and leaves one under your pillow. You have to be careful not to smoosh it while you're sleeping." She stopped cold, staring down at the herbs. "Should I be taking this? I never thought about that. I'm old enough now, right? What if I wake up and find a baby?"

"Did Gothel tell you about the heron, too?"

"Of course."

Eugene was mumbling something, and Rapunzel was pretty sure it was something violent. Finally, he ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "Babies don't come from herons, Rapunzel. You don't find them under your pillow, so don't worry about smooshing them and don't worry about taking the herbs."

She shouldn't be surprised - Gothel lied about so many things - but she was still stunned and a little hurt. Embarrassed, too. How could she be eighteen, legally an adult in the kingdom, and not know where she herself came from? Where anyone came from? "Well, then, where do they come from?"

More slow breathing. "Well, first of all, women have the babies, but guys are involved in the process. It takes a man and a woman for a baby to happen."

Rapunzel didn't know if she felt robbed - she always thought it was kind of special that only women got babies - or if she liked this idea. Everything was more interesting when she did it with Eugene, so probably a baby that the two of them found would be more fun than a baby she found by herself. "What is the process? If not under pillows, where are they hidden?"

"They're not hidden. Babies are not scavenger hunt items."

Rapunzel liked scavenger hunts.

"Babies are made, we make them."

This was getting better and better! Would she get to choose, then, what her baby looked like? She already had so many ideas! It changed everything about the way she looked at people - people are made! Everyone around her was created! She looked at Eugene, the way his hazel eyes were so soft and patient as he explained to her, the way his bangs fell over his lashes. She couldn't help but think that whoever made Eugene was very artistic.

And why would they leave him? Eugene didn't have any parents. Some people made him just right, just like he was, perfect, and then didn't want him anymore?

He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "And when you want to... go through the process, but you don't want to have a baby, that's when you take those herbs."

"Why would you want to do that?" Seemed like a waste of time.

Eugene chose his words carefully, which she appreciated, because she was already really confused. "Because... it's really... fun. And it feels amazing. So, people usually like to do it a lot more often than it would make sense to have children."

"So, what's the process? Do we just sit down and talk about what we want the baby to be like? I could sketch it." It sounded fun, but it didn't sound like it felt amazing.

"It's a little more involved than that."

"Could you show me?"

"Not right now."

"When?"

There was a distinct, angry rapping at the door. "I'm coming in there, Mr. Fitzherbert! I hope you are decent!"

Geneva had the worst timing. It was like she _knew_ when Rapunzel was about to learn something important and was summoned. Even now she threw the doors open with a whoosh and swept in, hands on her hips. "I knew I'd find you here! My lady, how many times must say that you cannot be in here with Mr. Fitzherbert alone?"

"Don't worry," Rapunzel said brightly, holding up the pouch. "We have these herbs, so I'm not actually going to have a baby. We're just talking about it."

Eugene groaned, and Geneva turned a brand new shade of red, darker than a tomato but brighter than a rose. "You _what?_"

Eugene cut her off. "Really, it's not like that. Rapunzel was just snooping and asking some questions."

"I'm sure she _was_! And I'm sure you're all too happy to answer! You are a _dog_, Fitzherbert. She is completely defenseless and nearly ten years your junior."

"You don't have to go making me feel old."

"Eugene is not a dog," Rapunzel said, putting her hands on her hips, as well. It was a pose of authority, it seemed, and this was not an issue she would concede. "He's the only one who tells me anything around here."

"He'll ruin you, if I'm not more diligent!"

"I wouldn't," Eugene said quietly. "If I wanted to ruin her, it would be done, and you know it."

"No one is ruining me!" Rapunzel said, looking back and forth between them, wondering if either of them would talk to her instead of having some cryptic conversation _about_ her while she was standing right there. "I am trying to learn something!"

"All the wrong things," Geneva huffed. "We will discuss this later, your highness. Run along to your mother, _now_. The Queen awaits for our trip into town."

There was a long moment when Rapunzel and Geneva had a staring match, but the truth was that Rapunzel wasn't quite comfortable exerting her authority yet. She'd spent her life yielding and yielding and yielding. She sighed, shooting Eugene an agitated glance before slumping out of the room.

* * *

Eugene watched her go, exhausted in every way. He felt sore for her. He hated watching people scold her, watching the fight slip out of her. She was always waffling between her fiery, commanding self and the scraping mold she'd been forced into.

Then there was Geneva, who was an insufferable bitch all around. Eugene had been hoping Rapunzel's companion would be a friend to her, not a warden. This wasn't going to last.

"Listen," Eugene said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You can be outraged all you want, but Rapunzel is an adult. It's normal for her to be asking these questions. _Three-year-olds_ ask these questions. If you want to help her, then maybe you should give her the talk. Otherwise I'm going to."

"If you do, I'll -!"

"Lady, you're not getting near my crotch, okay? And anyway, I already died for this girl, so there really isn't anything you can say to scare me. Just sit with her and talk about... whatever girls talk about. She's going to keep sneaking in here, whether you like it or not. So, basically you can explain things your way, or I'll explain them my way."

Eugene would come to wish he'd made a preemptive decision.

* * *

A/N - Thanks as always to **SekiharaTae**_, _my amazing beta. She has her own Tangled one shot up now, check it out! It's in my favorites list.

Thanks also to **Airplane** for nagging me about writing this chapter and being a sounding board. If you haven't read his Tangled story then you're living under a rock... but you can find it in my favorites list, too.

I have some exciting news! **MomokoKawase **on deviantart made some fanart for Chapter 2 of this story! It is gorgeous. I posted a link in my profile. Please go check it out and leave her comments!

And now, thanks to **Shelbey, RainbowPoniesAndShit, , mandymuggle, ProfessorSpork, kidwithwingz, wittgen, Philippian, Honey Bee 4-ever, Lizzie, Chibi Monkey 13 **(I'm glad you're writing, too!), **Esmeralda Diana Parker **(yeah, that's not a coincidence), **Romance and Musicals, StarryNightT, Funkywatermelon, Ayefah, mustbebunnies, yuri4281, LinkandZeldaForever0329, CocoRocks, LunarBasket, flatlinedreams, Darianella, MaggieTheUnicorn, alexxxac3, Valentine Satiguss, Ocelot Summer, Concise, name, mommypenguinhd, storyteller1425, Inume-blue, xwittychickx, NailoSyanodel, Ashi-Grey, Sophie-Skye, Lizzie the Witch, AdriRin, Earthbender2010, lest-horror-it-brings, ilikeotters, Air-Quiet-Reader, Alex, Justie C, helikesitheymikey, rurouni007, curledruler, pemolalinifun, NotMeagain, jufuao, alwaysuptonogood, Meg, Ivorybreath, the smokin' smolder** (thanks for the recommendation, Flynn! Love your blog.)**, TheTurkeyVulture, katherose, InkSpellWeaver, Alltangledup95, Whimsically speaking, xbecbebex** (eep! I hope you're feeling better!) **, Book Thief, Moonphase 9, Ally Marton, 26ja, **and** Sangel1234** for your feedback on Chapter 4. Wow guys! You know how to make a girl feel loved and encouraged. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed previous chapters, too!

Many people asked - where is Pascal? Where are her parents? The truth is... I just don't feel like writing about them. Maybe that makes it less "realistic," but since it's fanfiction, I'm only going to write what is fun for me to write. If I suddenly feel like writing about Pascal or the Queen, I'm sure they will appear. I agree with you guys that there is an odd feeling of absence...

Another popular question - how did Rapunzel get so good at chess in her tower? All you need to get good at chess is a lot of practice, and she had practice time in abundance. Bobby Fischer played with himself primarily for a long time.

And the question "how old is Eugene?" Well, I read recently (**NailoSyanodel** pointed me to the info, in fact) that he's 26, so that's what I'm going with. It's not a very strange concept for me, since my biggest fandom is Kenshin x Kaoru and the ages there are 28 and 18! I know it bothers some people though. Sorry!

And finally, some were dismayed that things are heating up between Flynn and Rapunzel. I'm sorry if this caught anyone off guard, however, I've tried to be clear from the beginning that this story is about them getting over their major issues and helping each other through it, and frankly, I think sex would be a part of that for them. If you're not comfortable with that, I understand, but that's where this is going, so... yep. I WILL raise the rating to M when things get very racy, so you're "safe" for now. I think that's all I have to say about that.

Till 6!


	6. Fear

Eugene was whipped. There was no other way to explain why he'd been shooting the breeze with the guards in the foyer, pretending he hadn't seen the carriage approaching, pretending he wasn't waiting eagerly for Rapunzel to come inside. He'd felt uneasy since that morning, when Rapunzel had left in a slump. He was anxious to see her again.

The queen had entered some time ago, friendly and polite as always, explaining that Rapunzel and Geneva had taken a walk and would be back shortly. Then she'd fixed Eugene with a knowing look and went on her way. Eugene had wanted to shout after her that he wasn't waiting for Rapunzel, he just happened to be in the foyer at that particular moment, but he didn't think the queen was stupid enough to believe him.

Finally, the doors opened again, and Rapunzel slouched past the guards. She looked smaller than ever, her little shoulders curled inwards, her head bent forward, tear-tracks tracing down over her cheeks. Eugene's heart clenched at the sight, and he immediately started towards her, arms open to receive her. He couldn't imagine what had upset her so, but whatever it was would have to answer to him. After he'd comforted her.

But he froze when she finally looked up, her green eyes locked on his for just a moment before she looked away. Her gaze was as cutting and cold as it was anguished, broken. She shook her head rapidly, new tears springing at the corners of her eyes. She reached out to push his arms out of her way before dashing into the first floor study.

Eugene balked, pained anew at her refusing him. She looked at him like he was the enemy, not the friend who'd carried her hair along behind her, held her when she cried, ate eleven pies for her, and explained the non-existence of the great baby-carrying blue heron to her. What did he do to deserve the cold shoulder?

Cautiously, he followed her into the study. She'd fled to the far corner and was speaking rapidly in a low voice to a potted fern, wringing her hands. He couldn't make out her words, but she was clearly upset, not even pausing to listen to the plant's silent answers like she usually did. She just rambled on and on.

Eugene cleared his throat. "Rapunzel? Are you okay?"

She froze, then slowly looked over her shoulder to fix him with a menacing glare. "You stay away from me, _Flynn_."

Eugene swore her words were literally projectiles, because he felt instantly bruised. Then he straightened, because since when was he wounded by careless words? It was pathetic. She was probably just in a mood. A particularly vicious mood. The only mood she'd ever been in that made her blow him off and refuse his aid.

He raised an eyebrow, trying not to look hurt. "What's got you all pissy?"

She scoffed. "Like you don't know. Please." She turned back to the fern, shaking her head as if the plant would agree with her assessment that Eugene was an evil idiot.

"Really," Eugene said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have no idea."

But she ignored him, ranting on and on at a whisper, gesturing wildly into the fronds.

For the first time, Eugene was glad to see Geneva. The older woman entered the study behind him, looking pityingly at their princess. "Poor thing."

"What happened?" Eugene asked. "Was someone rude to her in the city?"

Geneva shook her head. "Oh no, everyone was lovely. The city loves her. The country loves her."

"Then what? Was there a hazelnut soup stall? The smell gets to her sometimes." Last time they passed such a booth, she broke down crying in the street.

"No. She's just dealing with growing up, is all."

That could mean a lot of things when it came to women, none of which Eugene was quite sure he was comfortable discussing, but he didn't think he had a choice. "How, exactly?"

"Well, you told me to have a talk with her… you know, _the talk_, as you put it. So I did."

Oh _no_. And this was Rapunzel's reaction? Eugene bit back several choice curses, eyebrow twitching as he stared down the damn chaperon. "And what did you tell her?"

"It was more like I showed her."

Eugene blinked. A million terrible images running through his head. "You _what?_" His mind couldn't settle on the most disturbing idea, so he tried to keep his head clear until he heard the entire story.

"Samson, you know, the horse trainer? He told me this morning that the new stallion, Figaro, was being put out with the mares today, that they had a particular matchup in mind. I thought this was the perfect opportunity for Rapunzel to learn about… you know, the birds and the bees." Geneva looked incredibly pleased with herself, then turned back to Rapunzel, clucking with pity Eugene now recognized as completely false.

Eugene felt the shock, disgust, and anger flit across his face in a strange cycled grimace. "Did you even explain anything to her before hand?"

Geneva looked at him, all wide-eyed pretended innocence. "Why would I need to do that? It can't be more plain once you've seen it."

"You do realize she's spent her entire life in a _tower_ don't you? Before she met me she thought men had _fangs_. She doesn't even know what sex _is_, and you introduce her by making her watch horses fucking? _REALLY?_ Are you a complete moron?"

Geneva drew herself up. "You asked me to inform her, so I did. It's not my fault that it's a brutal, base act that is upsetting for any young girl to see."

Eugene came so close to decking that woman that he might have pulled a muscle holding his arm back. He could have given her a long speech about how it's only brutal and base in the worst of circumstances and that no encounter Rapunzel was likely to have would ever be like that, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. Geneva clearly had a fixed, mal-informed opinion of sex herself, and Eugene had no interest in untangling that. He turned to Rapunzel instead, who had crouched down by the pot and was talking to the roots now.

"Of course it was upsetting," Eugene spat, weaving his hands through his hair and tugging in frustration. "Even _I_ find horse shlongs intimidating and I'll never be on the receiving end of one of those things!"

Rapunzel froze, and Eugene hadn't thought about the fact that she could be listening to them and speaking to the plant at the same time. But he should have – Rapunzel was always listening, always processing.

She whipped around. "The receiving end!" she shrieked, scrambling to her feet. "I don't think so you… you MAN! You stay away from me! How could you lie to me like this? You were so nice when all along-"

Eugene held up his hands as placatingly as he could manage. "Rapunzel, calm down. You have things all out of order. Calm down a minute and let me explain everything to you-"

"I _asked_ you to explain. I _begged_ you to explain, and you wouldn't! Now I know why. Now you're trying to trick me again! I know what you're capable of!"

"Rapunzel," Eugene said, more sternly this time. "Quit it. You're overreacting. You need to listen."

"Why should I listen to you? Everyone knows you're a liar and a thief! I thought you were different!"

Ouch. Eugene had a harder time pretending that one didn't hurt, even if it was partially true. "Rapunzel, use your brain," he said quietly. "You're smarter than this. You're focusing on the wrong things. Horses and people are very different, don't let Geneva scare you into conflating them. Think about Maximus – would he do anything to hurt a lady horse he liked? I don't think so."

Rapunzel burst into tears anew, which was not the reaction Eugene was going for. "Oh _GOD_," she wailed, pulling at the ragged ends of her hair. "Maximus _ how could you?_" Then she turned and ran out of the room.

Geneva sighed. "Poor dear, it must be so hard to realize what being human is all about when you've spent all your time in a little dream world."

Eugene wished he had a frying pan at that very moment, and turned a murderous glare on Geneva. He didn't even know where to start. He'd been back to that tower. He saw the twisted way she had lived, the eternal childhood she was forced into. It was a nightmare, not a dream. And Eugene was hoping to show Rapunzel how _wonderful_ being human could be, all the things she could do with her freedom, all the things she could see and smell and taste and experience. And eventually, carefully, slowly, he wanted to show her what someone who loved her could make her feel. What she could feel for herself.

His entire rant rotted away into a heavy bitterness, and he looked at Geneva with nothing but disgust. "She was already traumatized enough. Now you've gone and made her afraid of her own body and what half the world's population could do to it. You better back the hell off and hope I can undo what you did to her."

Geneva sniffed. "If she stops sneaking into your room, and stops driving herself mad with her silly fantasies, then I've done my job."

"Maybe you'll feel differently when the royal line ends with her because she thinks men are freaking _centaurs_ and are going to attack her."

Geneva's brow furrowed. She hadn't thought of that. It didn't matter, Eugene wasn't going to waste any more time on her.

* * *

Rapunzel locked her door and shoved a chair up under the knob. Then she crawled up on her window seat to comfort herself. She had to remember how to comfort herself. In the past weeks, she hadn't had to, she would just go to Eugene and he would hold her, and stroke her hair, and kiss her temple, and murmur to her that he was there and everything was going to turn out okay. Now she knew what that was all about it seemed sick and wrong.

She pulled the old sack of her things over and rifled through it, looking for something familiar. She used to get upset when she was alone all the time, and now she could hardly remember what she did to calm down. Stuffed animals, blankets, Pascal, knitting, whatever… it all felt so inadequate now. She wrapped her arms around herself in a vain attempt to simulate his warmth. She needed to hear his breath and his heartbeat and his steady voice. She was all alone. Again.

She would always be alone. The more she learned about the world the clearer it was to her that it hardly made a difference where she was. People would always lie to her. People would always take advantage of how little she knew. There would always be rules and protocols – Gothel's, or Geneva's, or the country's. And every good thing had some terrible dark side. In just a few days her entire understanding of how human beings are made and function had been completely destroyed and replaced with something terrifying. What else was there to learn? Maybe she was better off not knowing. Maybe Gothel was doing her a favor after all. The world was ugly and savage.

How gullible was she? She was so addicted to Eugene. She had so delighted in the way he touched her, how soft and gentle he could be, the hint of something stronger and more urgent underneath it all had been so enticing, so intoxicating. She couldn't get enough of him, and he let her think that was a good thing, kept hinting like one day he was going to surprise her with the best part of all and it was going to be amazing. She had completely trusted him.

And he fooled her like everyone else. Maybe he laughed at her behind her back like so many others did. Maybe it made him feel better about himself, to see such a stupid, clueless princess. She knew other people in the palace got a kick out of it. Somehow she'd ended up in this position, she'd been born to lead an entire country, and she wished she hadn't. Then no one would have cared when her mom got sick and they'd have just let her die. Maybe that was better than growing up some freakish resource for a witch and then taken back to be poked and prodded at and made fun of.

She was just some weird toy for Eugene. He was torturing her. He was teasing her. All along he was just playing with her. Getting her math lessons, buying her clothes, making her think he cared about her and thought highly of her. That he felt about her the way she felt about him.

And now she was all by herself, crying like a five year old. Like the five year old trapped in a woman's body that she was. She never saw people her age crying, only children. Where could she go and be safe? Who could she turn to? There was nowhere, no one. She pulled out the stuffed duck she used to hold onto when she was smaller, but the smell of the tower on it and the thought that Eugene had brought it for her made her stomach turn, and she rushed to her wash basin and was sick.

She coughed and wiped her mouth, then reached for her hair, but it was gone. She didn't even have that any more. She just wanted to cocoon inside it and never come out, or throw open the windows of her bedroom and swing away somewhere.

There was a gentle knocking at the door. She knew who it was and tried to stop her shuddering tears. Maybe he wouldn't hear her and move on. Everything he'd say would be a lie, or a weird half-truth designed to make her feel like she had some idea of what was going on when really she had none at all.

"Rapunzel?" his voice was so quiet, so smooth. He sounded so concerned. He sounded like he really cared. She couldn't even trust her own ears anymore.

"It's me," he said softly. "It's Eugene."

_Eugene_. Even his name was a trick. So innocuous. He should have stuck with Flynn. He'd chosen it for a reason, he'd named himself after some swashbuckler who did whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted. _Good with the ladies_. Right. Skewered the ladies with his insane anatomy!

"Can I come in?"

She bit down on her wrist, trying not to breathe, not to move.

"No? Okay. I won't, if you don't want me to. I wouldn't do anything you didn't want me to, you know."

_No, you'd just trick me into thinking I wanted it, like you always do._ Gothel had Rapunzel thanking her for being a good mother. Flynn had her begging him to touch her. She was such a push over.

"Rapunzel, I'm worried about you. Can you just let me know you're okay?"

_Did you take the joke too far? Are you worried you'll get in trouble if I'm actually hurt?_

He started to sound a little desperate. The only time she'd heard him sound that way before was when he was begging her not to go with Gothel. He had died for her.

She pushed the thought away, screwing her eyes closed. He wouldn't have, if he could do it over. Gothel had surprised him. If he knew what was waiting for him in that tower, he would not have climbed her hair. He would have left her there to rot. He would have let Gothel drag her away somewhere forever.

"Rapunzel, please, hear me out. I would never hurt you."

Gothel said that all the time. What a laugh.

"Rapunzel," she heard him lean against the door, felt the weight of his presence on her. She wanted to reach for him, to throw open the doors and hide in his arms, but she couldn't. He spoke so quietly now, she could only just heard him. "Rapunzel-"

A strange giddy anger filled her, anger at how he was playing her, giddiness that she recognized it, that she couldn't be fooled anymore. She dug through the bag for her books and chucked them one at a time at the door, right at the spot he was leaning on. "GO AWAY," she shouted. "GO AWAY." Her sobbing and her twisted laughter mixed together until she could barely breathe. Her diary was the last to be flung, landing with a dull thud against the wood and then onto the cold marble floor. She heard his footsteps echo farther and farther away from her.

But she wasn't glad that he was gone. She felt like she'd ripped her own heart out.

* * *

Eugene wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly for a long time. He did not recognize himself at all. A few months ago, he'd move from city to city, heist to heist, woman to woman, without another thought. He had everything he needed in himself. Now he gets in one spat with some girl and he's completely derailed.

And they didn't even get in a spat. He didn't _do anything_. Some other person came along and brushed their bond away like cobwebs. All that trust he'd worked so carefully to build, _gone,_ in the time it takes one stallion to bang one mare. It was like fate was exacting its revenge for Eugene naming that sex move _the stallion_.

They didn't get in a fight, and Rapunzel wasn't _some girl_. As much as he'd been the center of her universe, she'd been the center of his, too. It scared him to think about how focused he'd been on her. He'd never had a purpose to his life before, and she came along and he latched on like a barnacle. He'd tolerated her clinginess but never looked at himself in that light before. He'd scheduled his days around her, went on crazy field-trips for her, learned her likes and dislikes, learned what set her off and how to avoid it, learned about that spot on the back of her neck and how she shuddered when he grazed it with his knuckles…

His head was filled with all of these details, and somehow they pushed out all his common sense, all his independence. He felt completely lost. Rapunzel used to hang on his every word and now she wouldn't listen at all. He had no idea how to approach the situation.

He had to talk to the King and Queen as soon as possible. He knew they wanted the best for Rapunzel, and had good intentions in hiring Geneva, but this had to stop. Maybe the Queen could even talk to Rapunzel about the reality of being a grown woman, something Eugene could really only guess at. The royal parents seemed like good examples of a happy marriage. Maybe they could be an example for Rapunzel. When he went to address them, he was informed they were attending to some diplomatic crisis, and the best he could do was make an appointment to see them first thing in the morning. Being a princess was kind of a blessing and a curse in that way – you have all the resources of a country at your fingertips, but your parents can't give you the sex talk because some other country is threatening a war.

Evening fell while he thought himself in circles. There had to be some way to get through to her. He knew it had to be on her terms – she had to feel in control of the situation or she'd get scared and run off. But he also had to be honest. If he tried to engineer a situation, she'd know, and she'd feel like he was trying to set her up, and trick her again. The combination of her intelligence and her ignorance made things incredibly difficult. She had no idea what was going on, and she kept second guessing everything.

He found himself outside, standing under her window around sundown. It was unseasonably warm for September. Rapunzel had been complaining about the heat for days, especially in those ridiculous layers she had to wear all the time. Eugene had promised to take her swimming, but it didn't look like that was going to happen any time soon.

Actually…

Eugene stooped down and picked up some stones, not pausing long enough to think about what he was doing and thus feel stupid. He tossed them one at a time at her window, just hard enough to plink against the glass.

After a while he saw the curtains rustle, and Rapunzel glance around with eyes puffed up and pink from crying. The sight made his chest ache. He hated Geneva, he hated horses, and he hated Gothel. He hated everything that somehow conspired to torment Rapunzel and keep him far enough away that he couldn't wipe her tears away and protect her.

She spotted him and immediately ducked away.

"Goldie," he said, tossing another stone. "Come on, pretty girl, why are you hiding in there?"

The window opened, and Eugene surged with hope until a giant quartz from her collection came careening down at him. He dodged.

"I can throw rocks, too!" she yelled.

He laughed a little. It was still a humorous situation, even if it was also tragic and devastating.

"Yeah, but why bother? You like those rocks, and I'm not going to hurt you."

Another one, a geode this time, coming at him like a meteor. He dodged, then picked him up. "You found this guy down by the shore. I think I'll keep it. Do you really want to give me all your rocks?"

She said nothing, but she didn't throw anything either.

"I have a proposal for you."

"Don't bother, I'm going to say no."

"That's okay, I'm used to rejection. Orphan and all."

She peeked out again, and he felt kind of bad for that cheap shot at her heart strings, but not that bad. He'd tell sob story after sob story if it meant she'd have a conversation with him.

"Listen, why don't you come swimming with me? It's way too hot to sit in your room. I know a great spot."

She scowled. "You think I'm stupid, don't you? That's the last thing I should do."

"No, I think you're brilliant. I saw your math homework. You can do crazy stuff. You do math with numbers _and_ letters. I didn't even know math _had_ letters."

She paused, not letting up on the glare. But she sounded a little less guarded when she said, "They're called variables. They're not really letters. They just stand for something else."

"I had no idea. Really. And what was that chess move you used on me the other day? You told me but I can't remember. The fan cello?"

She laughed for a second, her smile lighting up her entire face, before she recovered and forced a slightly less severe frown. "Fianchetto," she said.

"Yeah, that. I don't know any special moves. I just kind of move the pieces around at random."

"That's why I always beat you. You don't think ahead."

"I beat you, once."

"You had a seventeen point handicap."

"Well, there you go. Clearly you know what's up. And you _do_ think ahead. Why don't you bring your frying pan and come swimming with me?"

She tugged at the stiff collar of her gown, looking anxiously towards the trees. She'd been so excited about going swimming. She wouldn't stop talking about it.

Eugene held up his empty hands. "I'm completely unarmed. You've knocked me out more than once before. I promise not to try anything funny. But if you bring your frying pan, you won't have anything to worry about even if I'm lying."

She bit her lip, clearly torn between wanting to go and wanting to never see him again. "What's in it for you?"

"Honestly? Probably a concussion."

"Maybe you'll trick me and then act like a horse."

It's a sad day when 'act like a horse' becomes a euphemism for making love. "No offense, Princess, but if it was sex I wanted, I wouldn't be putzing around the castle."

"What's sex?"

Oh dear Lord. 'Acting like a horse' _wasn't_ a euphemism for her. It was all she had. "Why don't you come down here, and I'll tell you? This isn't really the kind of conversation we should shout at each other across three stories."

"You'll tell me everything?"

Eugene nodded. "I'll be a veritable sex ed. handbook, if you'll come down here."

"If you lie to me, I'll beat you with my frying pan."

"I don't doubt it, you have a liberal hand with that thing."

"Stand back. Farther. Farther. Okay, there."

Eugene stood still on the spot she indicated while she tossed the rope they'd made out of sheets out the window. They hadn't used it in a while, since she'd been just jumping out and trusting him to catch her (which was at the same time fun and incredibly nerve-wracking), but he saw now that his touching privileges had been completely revoked.

Once she landed, she pulled the rope down and hid it under their usual flagstone, then straightened and leveled the pan at him. "No funny business."

Eugene held his hands up. "I'm completely serious. Not funny at all. I'm the opposite of funny."

She stared for a while then finally nodded. "Lead the way."

Eugene sighed, heading across the lawns and towards the trees. A few guards saw them, but they noticed the frying pan and stayed put. They'd be alarmed if Rapunzel were being kidnapped, but it appeared she was the one doing the kidnapping, and that was just fine.

Rapunzel walked next to him, but a good distance away, and she kept a firm grip on the pan. They got to the tree line and she moved a little closer to him, picking her way over the tree roots and rocks in the dim moonlight.

After a few minutes, she said. "You're not trying to hold my hand. You always hold my hand. Is it because you don't like me anymore? …or did you never like me?"

Eugene paused and glanced back at her. She looked so small, and there was so much fear and sadness in her eyes. This was a bigger issue than he even knew. It wasn't just that she was afraid of sex, she was afraid of _him_, and he was her only friend. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her doubts away, and show her how much he 'liked' her, because words clearly weren't convincing enough. But he couldn't. All because Geneva was a tactless idiot. He'd have to wait.

"Of course I still like you," he said gently. "I liked you before, and I still do. I'm not going to stop just because you yelled at me a little. I'm here to stay, if you let me." He held his hand out to her, and held his breath while he waited to see if she'd take it.

She hesitated for a long time, but in the end, she kept walking on her own.

* * *

AN – I set up a Rapunzel roleplay twitter! She's snarktastic. The link is in my profile. Be her friend and ask her questions and stuff. And let me know if you have an RP twitter because she's lonely, and a lonely Rapunzel is a psychotic Rapunzel!

**Tae**, I wrote some analogy about how my writing is my hair and you're carrying it around so I don't get caught up but it got too wordy and confusing and I don't have you to beta my notes. So basically, thank you for being the best beta on the planet.

Also, thanks to **xbecbebex, Alltangledup95, Airplane, CocoRocks, Funkywatermelon, Ivorybreath, Ceiphied Knight, Cmusiclover92, Writing Addiction, Wittgen** (you totally called it), **Naara, ProfessorSpork, NailoSyanodel, Ultimate Ending **(did you study Genie? Yikes.)**, CYLi, yuri4281 **(I got a little melty at that. Thanks!),** Queen of the Elementals 09, Random, oasis1314, Chibi Monkey13, MaggieTheUnicorn, ChristyLoisGilmore17, 26ja, curledruler, liltrix, Fantastical Fwooper, flatlinedreams **(and for the nudges, too!)**, midnightdisaster95, kenkao7rocks5forever, Meeeeeeel, mommypenguinhd, sombrita, Romance and Musicals, Jumping Pebbles, Rebel Song, Zeebeey, xdzumux, NewEyedOne, datswatutink, the smokin' smolder, RealLifeAliceCullen, LunarBasket, feffecrazy, watery-silver, boyslikegirls21, Nefer-T, rurouni007, sisana, MMShadowWolf, Tawnyfur, YellowSubmarine, Ally Marton, dirtylittlesecret256, BobtheFrog, KayMoon24, ry123red, BakaChan003, shadownip, frecklemaggie, Cassie E, thanksforthetea, XxBlissfulBlondeBrainxX, **and **Nini the Kakashi Obsessed** for the feedback since last time! You guys are why I keep posting. So thanks so much!

I can't really take credit for the contraceptive herbs. I can't remember where I first read about them, but I know geisha took them once upon a time. No idea how effective they are in reality.

Turns out a lot of you guys have dirty parabola fantasies, or do now. If that's my contribution to sexy daydreams, I feel accomplished.


	7. Trust

_**WARNING**_: This fic is now rated M for extra sauciness. Proceed at your own discretion.

* * *

They were sitting on a few rocks by the river's edge, Rapunzel's back completely straight, her shoulders completely square, her knuckles white on the handle of the frying pan. Eugene sat across from her, more relaxed, but eying her warily.

She could see she was hurting him, and the thought confused her. What did he want from her? Did he actually care if she held his hand or not? If she was overreacting, if Eugene had really been there for her all along, then why had he been hiding all of this? She _saw_ those horses with her own eyes. If that was the big secret about men and women and babies, of course he would keep it from her.

"Rapunzel," he said slowly, carefully. "I'll answer any questions you want, and I'll tell you the complete truth as far as I know it, but only if you can trust that I'm not out to get you."

She set the pan down, but only so she could cross her arms over her chest. It was hot and muggy out, but she kept getting waves of chills. She had learned to trust his voice, and it was really disorienting to have to parse out his words like everyone else's. It was exhausting. She'd taken for granted having one person she could always believe. "How am I supposed to trust anyone at all? The only person who really knew me was going to lock me up forever. That's not an enormous recommendation for trust."

Eugene swallowed, that little glimmer of pain flitting through his eyes again. "You're right. Your life has sucked until now. I don't think anyone would argue that with you. But you've already spent eighteen years in a tower. Do you really need to keep hiding yourself away? That's what you're doing, you know. You're pulling in on yourself. You're hurting _yourself_ for what Gothel did to you, and now what Geneva is doing. I wish you wouldn't do that. I think they've done enough damage without your help."

Rapunzel felt nauseous again, thinking about her afternoon in her room, disconnected from everyone, disconnected from him. It was the closest she'd felt to being back in the tower since she'd been freed, and it was a foul stroll down memory lane. She'd felt that this new information forced her there, but that wasn't strictly true – she'd run there herself, she'd locked herself in.

And all that time in the tower she'd had the ability to swing away, but she hadn't. She'd stayed. It was her choice. It was only when Eugene came along that she'd felt safe enough to leave. She tried to speak, and her words came out much weaker than she intended. "I didn't mean to," she choked. "I don't want that."

Eugene reached out to touch her shoulder but stopped just shy, pulling back quickly. She'd made him do that. She'd told him to stay away. He was right – she was isolating herself.

"I know," he said. "It's hard to accept so many new things at once. Especially when you see something that messed up. But Geneva is screwing with you. She's giving you information completely out of context. Remember the first time you saw that rabbit? You had no idea what it was. For all you knew, it _was _some kind of thug out to get you. But that was only because you were looking at it with limited information. Geneva is doing this to you deliberately."

Rapunzel's arms fell limp to her sides, her eyes widening in frustration. Was it her fate to be passed from one person who would manipulate her to another? "Why would someone do that to me?"

"She's trying to scare you away from me. Not everyone thinks I'm the right man for you, Goldie. Geneva certainly doesn't. I'm going to talk to your parents about it tomorrow. All I'm asking is that you get as many of the facts as you can and then make a judgment for yourself. Because right now, you're hiding from _me_ because of something _Geneva_ did, and I don't think that's good for either one of us."

She didn't think so either. She was more miserable than she'd been since he almost died, and he didn't look too happy about the situation either. "Eugene…" she hesitated, not wanting to make things worse but knowing she'd have to ask this question before she could move on. "If… if you knew what was waiting for you in the tower… when you came back to get me. Would you still have come? I mean, would you have run?"

Eugene balked, his eyebrows knitting, his guard completely down for just a few seconds, a few seconds in which he looked as hurt as she felt. "Why would you think that? What did I do to make you think that?"

She reached for his hand instinctively, and this time he was the one to pull away, just as quickly, thoughtlessly, as if she would harm him. What a mess she'd made. How did she manage this? "I don't… I don't _know_. I mean, who _would_ face that, knowingly? Who _would_ volunteer for that?"

"I would. I _did_."

"You didn't know-"

"I did know. I cut your hair even knowing it meant I'd die. If I cared about my life more than yours, I would have let you heal me and be on your way. But in that moment I knew exactly what I was doing. And I would do it over and over again. What have I done to make you doubt that?"

"_Nothing!_ I just. I can't tell up from down anymore. I don't have _any_ reference for any of this. No one will tell me _anything_, and even _you_ have been hiding things from me!"

Eugene pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying not to get too annoyed. He rarely lost his patience with her, and it made her even more anxious. "I've been 'hiding' things from you when you aren't ready to know them-" he held up a hand to silence her instant protests. "And it isn't because you're not old enough, or smart enough, or capable enough. It's because these are the kind of things that are best learned in a certain order. You can't learn to use the Fan Cello until you learn how the pieces move, am I right? And you can't… what is that thing Caleb was ranting about? You can't plot coordinates if you don't fucking know what coordinates are. Gimme your math homework. See if I can do it. I can't. You'd have to teach me in order for me to get it. It's the same thing with intimacy, okay? Except with intimacy, if you rush things or go out of order, you can really mess everything up. That is _exactly_ what Geneva did. She taught you out of order and now you're freaking out and thinking I'd throw you to the wolves. That is just… so wrong I don't even know what to say. I'd do _anything _for you. Please don't trust your _nanny_ over me."

Everything he said made sense! Much more so than her own tumbled thoughts. But then... that meant she'd over-reacted and made a complete mess of everything... and that was a sobering, depressing thought that made her ashamed. There was a huge lump in her throat that made her sound a little like the younger teenage pages around the castle. "What do you want me to do? You're asking me to take an enormous leap of faith, here!"

"Yeah, and laying my life down to free you? What was that, exactly? How about showing up for you every day, even when you throw things at me, even when you don't want to talk at all, even when you make me take my shoes off and fill them with sand. I became a different person _for you. That_ is a leap of faith. I have faith in you. But for this to work you have to trust me too, or we _both_ get hurt."

His words sliced into her one at a time, chosen and deliberate. Eugene rarely had harsh words for her, and here was a mountain of them. But they rang true to her in a way that Gothel's scolding never did. She knew that even now, he was trying to be honest with her. He was trying to help her. She choked back tears. "I don't want to hurt you, Eugene."

"I don't want to hurt you, either."

"I do trust you. I do. I just get turned around so easily."

He nodded, some of the tension slowly slipping from his shoulders. "I know. And it's understandable. And even people who were raised to play well with others still take things out on their friends when they shouldn't. Just give me a chance to tell my version of things before you decide I'm the enemy, okay? I'm on your side, no matter what."

Rapunzel nodded, although… "But the horse-"

Eugene groaned. "Forget the horse. What have _I_ done to frighten you?"

Rapunzel's brow furrowed, her palms face up on the rock, totally helpless. "Well… I don't know…"

"Are you scared when you're with me? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

She thought for a long time. Actually, Eugene was the steadiest person she knew, despite his reputation. The number of times he'd held still while she inspected his limbs for scars or funny birthmarks or interesting veins was rather excessive. And he stayed calm even when she was completely freaking out. And he didn't mince words. And he made her laugh, a lot. And he made her stop crying.

"No…" she said, deflated. "You make me feel comfortable."

He nodded. "Are you upset with me about something else? Is there something else nagging at you? Or are we okay for now?"

She desperately wanted them to be okay. But she felt horribly guilty now for doubting and hurting him. "I feel so ashamed."

He ducked his head a little so he could look at her face, even though she'd turned her gaze down. "Don't be," he said, a reassuring warmth settling back in his eyes. "There are going to be times when I'll be confused and pissed off too, and I hope you'll go easy on me."

Rapunzel sniffed, her stress slowly unwinding from around her like a giant snake. "Of course I will."

Eugene sat up and cracked his knuckles. There was still some tension between them, but it was dissipating quickly enough for her to stop internally panicking that their relationship was over.

"Okay, listen," Eugene said softly. "I'll answer any question you want to ask. _Any_ question. And then we'll go for a swim and I'll take you home. Okay? That's it."

She nodded, shy now that he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her questions. And oddly disappointed that what he listed was 'it,' even if just half an hour before that would have been too much. "Well… okay. Um… how does it work?"

Eugene didn't blush, or look awkward, or look away. He stayed perfectly calm. "Sex – that's what it's called, by the way, and it has nothing to do with horses. Sex is an activity that produces children – "

"Unless you take the herbs?"

Eugene nodded. "Yes. Very good. Unless you take those herbs in your tea. So, there's all different kinds of ways to have sex, but the most common way involves one man, and one woman. Just like anything else, things can go wrong, and it can be a negative thing, but that's not typical. I'm going to tell you about what usually happens first, okay? And then you can ask whatever you want."

Rapunzel nodded. He sounded so rational. Geneva got all flustered when she tried to ask questions, and most other people just pretended they didn't get her meaning or said they couldn't explain.

"Okay, so, men and women have compatible bodies. Have you noticed this at all?"

Rapunzel half-nodded. "You mean how you are stronger than I am, so you can open jars better? And I'm smaller, so I make less noise than I walk."

Eugene smiled. It was so nice, his face looked so kind. She couldn't imagine him the way Geneva had said in the study. He wasn't brutal at all. "Kind of," he said. "Those are some differences between us. You've spotted other things, too – like my beard, and my Adam's apple. And you've got your own stuff-"

Rapunzel reached up and touched her chest without thinking, which made Eugene cough to cover a laugh. She knew when he did that, but she didn't call him on it because she knew it meant he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Right," he said. "Nice. Yeah, I don't have those. Good."

"So by compatible," Rapunzel began, letting her hands fall into her lap. "Do you mean how I fit… with you? It always feels right… I mean, when we're hugging. I can tuck my head right under yours. And it seems like your arms go right around me."

Eugene's eyes softened, and he nodded. "Yeah, that's more what I mean. We go together well, don't you think?"

She had to admit it was true. They went together amazingly well. Before today, she couldn't stop thinking about how well they fit together. How much she wanted to be snug up against him.

"Well, we fit together even better than that. I know what you saw today was pretty shocking, but let's break it down. First of all, horses are completely different creatures from humans. That stallion had an impressive –"

"Shlong," Rapunzel said brightly. "I remember that's what you called it."

Eugene rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I did call it that. But that's not the best word. Technically it's a penis, but that makes it sound really stuffy and boring. Let's call it… um, let's call it a member."

"It was enormous. Frankly, it horrified me."

"I can understand that," Eugene said. "But you have to remember that the mare is a lot bigger than you are, too. They fit together. Did she seem upset by what was going on?"

Rapunzel thought back. At first, yes, which is what made it so upsetting. When the stallion approached her, she started shrieking and kicking like she was in pain. Then after a few minutes, the stallion had nuzzled the mare's nose for a while and then… BAM. And he was _so noisy_, all this snorting and grunting and crazy neighing. But the mare just stood there. She even ate a little grass. "After a minute, she seemed okay with it."

Eugene nodded. "Right. Now, I don't look anything like a horse, do I?"

Rapunzel shook her head.

"So it stands to reason that my… member, is different as well."

That was true. That made a lot of sense. Anyway how did Eugene keep his pants on if he had a stallion's member hanging out in there? She felt silly now for even suspecting it.

"And just like the mare was 'okay with' what the stallion was doing, I promise that women are perfectly capable of handling men during sex. In fact, they often enjoy it. A lot."

Rapunzel warmed a little, remembering what Eugene had said about making babies before, about how it felt amazing and was fun. Together with how very _amazing_ it felt whenever Eugene so much as kissed her, things were finally starting to come together. Things were making a little sense.

"The mare just seemed pretty blasé," she said.

"Yeah well, one thing I think is great about being human instead of being a horse is that sex isn't _merely_ a fact of life. Humans are creative. We don't just eat grass, do we? We eat all kinds of awesome things."

"Like pie."

"Right. So we don't _just_ have sex, either. We make it fun."

"So I won't just… be there… while you… do stuff?"

Eugene shook his head. "No. Not with me, anyway. Some women are with guys they don't like that much, and I can't speak for them. But if you and I have sex, I _promise_ you won't even _think_ about eating. You'll be too busy enjoying yourself."

Rapunzel felt tingly all over. Suddenly that was an incredibly appealing _if_. If their bodies fit together like that. If they got creative with each other. If they had sex, she would enjoy herself. "It would feel good?"

"It would feel really good, for both of us."

Rapunzel leaned forward, feeling her usual enthusiasm starting to rekindle inside her. "You would want to? I mean, would you want to? Have sex with me?"

Eugene laughed a little, not patronizingly, and not like he was making fun of her. He was just amused. "Yes," he said simply. "I would want to have sex with you."

"…Is this what all of my weird dreams have been about? I have these crazy dreams, and you're in them. We're always touching, all over, but nothing actually _happens_. I wake up and I'm all uncomfortable, and I want you _so_ _bad_, but I don't know what I want you to do. Is it sex?"

Eugene looked proud of himself, the way his shoulders straightened. "Probably. We're designed to want to have sex, it's how our bodies work. It's why we have children. It's why we need those herbs, because our wants and needs are a bit stronger than our abilities to raise children."

"How does sex make children?"

Eugene stroked his jaw thoughtfully. "I have a vague idea. Essentially when guys have sex, it gets better and better and better until the best part of all, and then… um… how to put this… you know, I don't really know a good way to describe it, and I don't actually know the science behind how it works. But why don't we go to Doc Celeste tomorrow together, and he can explain exactly how it happens? I don't want to tell you the wrong thing. And I'll be there with you in case there's intimidating information or the doctor uses obnoxious words you don't understand. Although your vocabulary is quickly becoming bigger than mine."

That seemed fair. It didn't seem like he was trying to get out of it. In fact he was volunteering to help her get more information, and she appreciated that. She appreciated it more than she could say. He was just sitting there, being _honest_ with her, not getting riled up, not getting upset. He was just speaking to her candidly. She felt her bottom lip quiver a little.

Eugene sat bolt upright. "Oh no," he said. "What did I say? What scared you? Sex is not scary, I _promise_, it's not scary."

She tried to hold it in, tried to get her lip to stop doing that, but she couldn't help it. All her emotions bubbled up inside her like a volcano, and tears were streaming down her cheeks before she knew it. "I'm not s-scared," she said, blubbering. "Eugene, I'm just so confused."

He put his hands out to touch her shoulders but pulled back, and his withdrawal cut into her. He wouldn't touch her anymore. He used to hold her, and now he wouldn't. She did something wrong. Everyone who liked her stopped. Or died. What did she do wrong? "Wh-why won't you hold me?" she sobbed.

"Do you want me to?"

"_Please_."

She didn't need to say another word. He crawled over to her rock and drew her to him, folding his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She felt instantly safe. She felt respected and cared for. Geneva was wrong about men. And so was Gothel. At least about Eugene.

"It's okay," he murmured, and the words washed over her in sweet relief, although she just cried harder. "What are you confused about?"

"I don't even know. It sounds like a good thing. Sometimes it feels like a good thing. But then Geneva seemed to think it was a bad thing, and so many people in the palace dodge my questions like it's a bad thing. And you're my friend – is sex something friends even do? Will we stop being friends if we have sex? What if I don't want to yet? How do I know if I want to? Do I get to pick who I have sex with? If it's so great, why isn't everyone everywhere just always doing it? This feels so political."

Eugene laughed, patting her back. His laugh comforted her, because he only laughed like that when he was in a good mood and wasn't hurt or worried or upset. "I wish I knew the answers to all of those questions. Um… some people are sticks in the mud. And we're not going to rush into anything, so you'll have plenty of time to figure out what you want to do and who you want to do it with. And yes, you _always_ choose. In fact if there's one thing you should take away from all this, I want it to be that you're in control of your own body and what you do with it and if some asshole makes you think you're not, or tries to pull a fast one on you, you beat him to a bloody pulp, okay?"

People rarely told Rapunzel she was in control of anything. In the tower, she controlled nothing at all. Not one thing. Even now, she didn't pick her clothes, or her school subjects, and even her free time was getting more and more limited. Eugene always made her feel like she had a choice. She loved that about him. She'd always dreamed of being free, free to do whatever she wanted to do. Eugene was the only one who ever made her feel that way.

She kissed him. She didn't know what else to do. She didn't know what to say in response, so she kissed him. It wasn't soft, or gentle, or kind. She kissed him _hard_, with everything she had, her tongue tangling with his while her fingers wove through the hair at the base of his skull, pulling, nails scratching. She got up on her knees over him, moaning into his mouth as his arms tightened around her, keeping her still, keeping her close. His forearms locked at the small of her back, solid, unmoving, and it thrilled her. Everything about him excited her. He was so strong, and his strength was for her, to protect her and hold her. She wanted to be his. She wanted everything that meant. Eugene was the best choice she ever made.

"_Oh_," she moaned against his lips, her pulse thrumming through her veins, her hips bucking forward against his abdomen. And now she knew why. Now she understood what she was after, what she wanted from him. It was freeing, it was empowering. She rubbed up against him and was shocked by how good it felt. So good that she threw her head back, breaking the kiss, holding onto his shoulders just to stay upright.

But he let go of her. She snapped her head forward, staring at him, aghast. Why did he let go? They were in the middle of something! She was straddling him, chest heaving, center _aching_, and he was calmly undoing his vest.

Actually that could be good. Finally this was going somewhere. Finally he wasn't telling her 'another day' or 'maybe when you're older.' He was doing something _now_. Right now. He was taking his clothes off.

"You're taking your clothes off!" she blurted out, too excited to be embarrassed.

"Yep." He shrugged out of his vest, letting it fall back onto the ground. Then he tugged his shirt out from his pants and pulled it up over his head. She'd never seen him shirtless before. He was glorious. Everything about him was beautiful. Every muscle, every scar, every hollow. There was so much to look at, there was so much she wanted to touch and taste. She understood what he meant by creative – the possibilities were endless.

He moved her gently off of him so he could stand, then he reached for his belt, and she had to try extremely hard to stop herself from jumping up and down. "Wow!" she said. "Should I take my clothes off, too?"

He took his boots off, and then his pants. He was just wearing some undershorts now. "If you want to."

Of course she did! It was hot out and the idea of her skin against Eugene's skin made her grind involuntarily over the rock and then she was a little embarrassed, but Eugene didn't scold her. She turned around. "Will you help me? I can't undo this corset by myself."

Eugene calmly undid the knot at the base, then loosened the ties all the way up. His fingers were so deft, he didn't seem nervous at all. When they were loose enough, she pulled the corset away, taking a deep, wonderful breath of the night air. She turned to smile at him. "Thanks-"

But Eugene wasn't looking at her. In fact, he was walking away from her.

"Hey!" she said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going swimming."

Rapunzel's jaw dropped as she held her dress up around her. Eugene stepped into the water a little, up to his ankles. The moonlight shone down over his back, and Rapunzel was completely muddled. All she could think about were those muscles over his shoulder blades, how they'd flex and contract if he were over her, _moving _over her, bracing against the ground with his arms. Moving _in_ her. She'd never thought about that before. The concept made her feel hot all over, even if it still wasn't completely clear in her head. She had to have him. He was joking.

"You're teasing me."

Eugene stepped further in, up to his knees, the water licking his skin. "Huh? No. I said I'd answer your questions and we'd go for a swim. I'm a man of my word now, thanks to you."

"_YOU ARE TEASING ME!"_

The idea made her so angry and happy at the same time. It was funny and it was _so not funny_. She knew what she wanted now – s he wanted to have sex with Eugene, and he was going _swimming_! What was wrong with human beings that they did this sort of thing! Wasn't it plain as day now what they should be doing? They were designed for it! He said so!

He was up to his waist now, and then he sank down into the water up to his neck, turning back her way. "Maybe a little," he said with a grin. "Revenge. You've been teasing me for months."

"I didn't _mean _to!" she said. "I didn't know anything!" She threw her arms out in irritation, her dress falling from her shoulders to pool at her waist. She was wearing a thin shift underneath, but Eugene's eyes darkened anyway as he looked her over. She couldn't feel embarrassed when he looked at her that way – clearly he liked what he saw. She stood up and kicked the dress away, marching towards the river herself. "I can go swimming, too," she said with a huff.

"That's the idea."

The water was deliciously cold, and she splashed right in. It brought her body temperature down and soothed her fevered skin, but it didn't change the way she felt about Eugene in that moment. She dunked her head under once to wet her hair, slicking it back out of her eyes, and crawled over to him. He was watching her very carefully, saying nothing, his gaze intense.

"I hate you right now," she said, pouting a little.

"Aw," he said, his grin returning. "I tell all, and this is what I get?"

She felt around in the sand as she got closer until she found his legs. He was sitting cross-legged, his head just above the water. "You're not swimming," she scolded. "You're just sitting here."

"You're not swimming, either," he pointed out smugly. "You're now sitting in my lap."

She wiped that smirk clear off his face when she just took a breath and, without warning, reached down between his legs.

"Whoa!" he said, eyes widening. "What are you-"

She found it. His member. He'd been hiding it and there it was, in her hand. And it was…

"Is this really it?" She blinked, squeezing a little.

"Hey! Be nice."

"Am I not being nice?"

"You're implying it's small. Guys don't like that."

"But it _is_ small."

Eugene finally blushed, and it was adorable. "Yeah well, this water is freezing. Besides, it _gets bigger_. It's travel-sized right now."

Rapunzel tried to see through the dark water, but it was opaque, and anyway she was feeling through his shorts. "It changes _size_?" She could hardly believe it. Small for transportation and larger for functionality. "That is _amazing_. You are so lucky! How fascinating! I don't have anything that does anything like that!"

Eugene kept making odd faces. They amused her. "You sort of do," he said, gasping. "It's just not so obvious. But your body adapts to the situation, too."

"How?"

Eugene place his palm on her hip and it burned into her, that touch alone enough to make her stop groping him and brace herself on his shoulders, completely overwhelmed by the sensation. He'd touched her hip before, but not with this little between them, not like this. She locked eyes with him, completely frozen as he slowly dragged his hand up, over her waist, his thumb pressing over her abdomen in a way that made her thighs contract. His palm smoothed over her ribs, fingers grazing her back, higher, until he held the swell of her breast and his thumb brushed gently, _too gently_ over her nipple. She arched into him, closing her eyes when he leaned forward to kiss right under her ear.

"Like this," he murmured.

She struggled to open her eyes so she could glance down at what he was doing. It was basically the most entrancing thing she'd ever seen. He cupped her breast in his calloused hand, his thumb brushing, _too softly, too carefully_, over the now pert and very visible peak of her breast.

Her instincts warred with her clinical curiosity, and something somewhere in the middle came out as she pushed flush up against him, forcing more of her into his hand, their chests moving together as they breathed. "Why?" she gasped. It didn't seem practical, what did changing nipple shape accomplish?

Eugene trailed his lips over her jaw and down her neck. "Just because," he said between kisses, between licks and nips and hot, wet movements she couldn't even describe. "Just because it feels good, it makes you more receptive to pleasure. And that's good, because it makes you want me. Doesn't it?"

She nodded vigorously, shifting so she could get some kind of purchase, feel some kind of friction against his thigh.

"You're lucky," Eugene murmured, trailing his free hand down her spine, pulling her closer and closer. "There are so many places on your body that function chiefly - or only - because they make you feel good."

He laved his tongue over the hollow over her throat and she believed every last syllable that came out of his incredible, amazing, supremely talented mouth. She devoured every word almost as happily as she did each caress, each push and pull of his body on hers, each squeeze of his hand, each press of his fingers on her back.

She moaned and tipped forward a little until she rested her forehead against his shoulder. "Where else?" she asked, dizzy from sensation, hungry for more and more and more.

She was about to object when his right hand left her breast, but he pressed it instead flat against her stomach, the pressure there making her hips move involuntarily over him again and again. She clung to him, desperate for more pressure, more touching, more of everything.

Until his fingers crept just slightly lower and the idea of where he was headed was so absurd she had to sit up a little.

He paused, turning his head a little to speak gently to her. "Do you want me to stop?"

"_No_," she said emphatically. "I just want you to show me the other places. There's nothing _there_."

Eugene pulled back a little, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

"Of course." That's the no-man's-land. There's where you pee. Rapunzel frowned. If anatomy mapped though, it was also where sex basically went down, according to the horse model. And, it was where the core of her sense of urgency seemed to be burning. "Right?"

Wrong. Wrong. She could see it in his eyes that she was wrong, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. He didn't want to rub it in that he knew her body a lot better than she did.

She blushed, she felt stupid. But she tried to laugh it off. "Well, I'm glad _one_ of us knows what's going on," she said, the desire draining out of her along with her pride. It seemed absurd she didn't know what went on in her own body, but Gothel had always said just to leave things down there well enough alone. So she had. She'd been curious, but not that curious. As far as she knew, the only function that space had was designated to the chamber pot.

She stayed in his lap, but the mood was completely different, she just curled up and laid her cheek on his shoulder, and he folded his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. She _was_ glad he knew. She'd never figure this out on her own, and it seemed worth figuring it out. To be this in tune with things, he must have had a lot of practice. And suddenly she got what 'not bad with the ladies' meant.

Her blood was cooling slowly, and the surge of emotions of the day was leaving her a little sleepy. The ups and downs, the highs and lows, the movement and the stillness. She yawned against his neck. "You've had sex with a lot of women, haven't you?"

Eugene froze for a few seconds, and then he relaxed with a small shrug. "Yep."

"Other people seem to think this is a bad thing."

"Other people are jealous. Guys want to be me, women want to be with me. What can I say?"

"I want to be with you."

He smiled, she could feel it even though her eyes were closed. "Lucky you, then."

"Yeah, I mean, if I were going to eat something, I'd want the person making it to know what they were doing, right? I'd want a chef. You're like a chef."

Eugene snorted. "Hell yeah I am." He turned his head to kiss her on the nose. "And I'm lucky, too. Because I get to be with you."

Her stomach did a little flip at the tenderness in his eyes and in his words, and she was just leaning in for another kiss when there was a rustling from the shore, a rummaging from one of the bushes. And then what sounded like a giggle.

Eugene tensed, his head whipping in the direction of the sound, and his arms tightened around her.

She laughed, poking his shoulder. "Eugene, it's just a rabbit."

It's true she'd never heard a rabbit giggle, but she'd never found anything else hiding in the bushes, either. Eugene didn't seem convinced, his jaw clenched. They waited several moments in silence, but there were no further sounds.

"I better get you home," he said absently, helping her get to her feet and wade ashore.

She wasn't ready for the night to be over, and she was already anticipating the next time she would see him. She wanted to ask for them to stay out just a little longer, maybe actually go swimming, but Eugene was looking extremely disturbed and she didn't like that look on him. They dressed quietly. He tied her corset much looser than her maids did, which she appreciated because it was easier to breathe, and he held her hand while they walked back.

Eugene looked in the bushes and all around as they walked, but he didn't seem to find anything unusual.

* * *

AN – **SekiharaTae**, you should be knighted for editing this sex-talk. I adore you.

I definitely was kicking myself for setting myself up to have to write this, but I did my best.

And I'm gonna plug my Rapunzel twitter again. Look in my profile for the link!

Thanks to **Nini the Kakashi Obsessed, BobtheFrog, lassador, Autumn's Melody, Funkywatermelon, Rebel Song, Romance and Musicals, Purple-Octopoodle, Somehowshifted, Ally Marton, nikikuchan, Airplane, feelthewindxx, xbecbebex, flatlinedreams, Nanenna, LinkandZeldaForever0329, CocoRocks, Tabby-Kate, LunarBasket, Mrs. Naara, pwykersotz, Lita64, curledruler, futrCSI1490, 26ja, cresmoon, MrsTater, JumpingPebbles, sisana, wolftracks17, frecklemaggie, Alltangledup95, XxBlissfulBlondeBrainxX, AngusH, JonesyB, Sean Montgomery, lovelyMESS, boyslikegirls21, ProfessorSpork, Fish Wishes, dreambee, Swish, luisa, liltrix, Say It Say My Name, Wittgen, MaggieTheUnicorn, **and** Jaymee. **For the feedback! You guys were totally split on last chapter's drama. It was fun to read both sides!

Someone asked what a parabola is. I don't really know how to explain it. It's a kind of graphical representation of an equation. Ya? I'm a humanities nerd. Ask me what a gerund is.

The Geneva hate is intense. You guys would totally be the angry mob at her execution. That makes me the executioner. Hm… ^_^


	8. Vulnerability

** WARNING: This story is still M-rated! There be foul language ahead! **

* * *

As they left Doc Celeste's office, Eugene couldn't help but be proud of himself for handling the entire thing maturely. He didn't crack a single joke or snigger even once. And actually, he had learned a little.

Most doctors never would have been so candid with a lady, let alone a princess, but Doc Celeste was an old guy who determinedly believed in knowledge over ignorance in all matters. "Of course I'll explain human reproduction!" he'd barked. "How could the future ruler of our country remain ignorant about that? It's preposterous. This nation's idea of morals is preposterous." And so, in very even tones, technical to the utmost, he'd clearly and deliberately laid out how baby Rapunzel came to be.

And now Rapunzel was in raptures as they navigated the hallways, weaving through bustling servants and chatting courtiers.

"Can you _believe it_?" she was gesticulating wildly and speaking loudly enough that the nobles they passed looked up in shock. "Current theory holds that I was born with over _one million_ eggs. That is outrageous!"

Eugene tugged Rapunzel out a side door and into the courtyard, where they could travel less conspicuously. He didn't give a damn who learned a thing or two from Rapunzel's ravings, but he thought _she_ might, later, when she had to wheel and deal with these people.

He nodded, because what else could he do in the face of her boundless enthusiasm for something so usually beyond the limits of polite conversation? "It's outrageous."

"And _you!"_ She poked his arm, grinning. "The exact number isn't known, but it's hypothesized that males produce millions and _millions_ of sperm _every day_! That is amazing! _Hundreds of millions_. I can't even imagine that number. I am going to have to talk to Caleb about this. Do you _feel_ it?"

Eugene barely contained a guffaw at the idea of Rapunzel laying that one on Caleb. "…it?"

Rapunzel gawked, tripping over her own feet a little. "The _constant creation_ happening in your body!"

Only Rapunzel could make sperm sound this valorous. "No… I'm generally only aware of my sperm when we part ways."

She grinned, shaking her head in awe. "And _that_. I mean, orgasms. Wow. If there is a God, he is a genius. Is there a God?"

Flynn had some line ready about how he'd make her believe in God, but Eugene couldn't stomach it. "I don't know, do you want me to take you to the court chaplain now?"

Raising an eyebrow, Rapunzel said, "He'd be a little biased about that topic, don't you think? Anyway, if there _is_ a God, he really planned us well. What better way to get creatures to mate than with orgasms! Are they as fantastic as they sound? You guys are lucky."

Eugene personally felt that orgasms were _more_ fantastic than any doctor could explain to a princess, but he also felt demonstrating that in public would get Rapunzel into more trouble than he knew how to deal with, so he just kept nodding. "It's good for you, too, you know."

Rapunzel cocked her head, eyes widening. "_Really?_ I can have them too? Doctor Celeste only talked about men…"

Eugene glanced around. There were noble women here and there, out of earshot but close enough that he could see their stiff postures, their elegant blank faces. Propriety be damned, he wasn't going to have Rapunzel ending up like that. "Yeah, society's still kind of in denial about that. But, you totally can. Would I lie to you?"

Rapunzel studied his face for several moments, and Eugene only realized how pointed his question was after he'd said it. Finally, her alert green eyes softened a little. "No, you wouldn't… but then why didn't Doctor Celeste explain female sperm production, because-"

"No, no, not like that. You have your own way of… going about things. A lot of different ways, actually, you're very versatile."

Rapunzel beamed as if he'd just issued her a compliment, and took hold of his arm. "I think all human beings are versatile! You know," she said, her tone turning thoughtful, her mood changing, as always, with her breath. "I really like Doctor Celeste. I admire what he does." She reached up to twirl her pinky into her hair absently, tilting her head a little. "It took months, but he healed my arm. With nothing but some cloth and some herbs. That's… that's beautiful."

"He's the best doctor in the kingdom."

She nodded. "Even so, it's really brave that people have found methods to heal each other that way. I never really thought about it before, about medicine, I mean. Mo… Gothel always made it seem like my hair was the only way to fix anything, like the rest of humanity couldn't bother to help each other, they just clawed at each other like animals all the time. But that's not really true… people come up with the craziest ways of helping and fixing each other. I always thought I was special for having that magic hair, but now I think it's much more special to heal people with your own skills, with just your will and your brain."

Eugene smiled softly and ruffled her hair. "You are special, Goldie. The world trembles in fear of what you could do with your will and your brain."

She elbowed him. "I'm going to use my powers for good, obviously."

They reached the base of Caleb's tower and he pulled her close for a moment to kiss her forehead. There were a few tense seconds when they both pretended they weren't thinking about being pressed together in the river, how they'd been closer than ever before and how desperately they wanted to be that close again.

"Alright," he said, his fingers trailing along her waist as he released her. "Off you go."

She grinned and turned, taking the steps two at a time, the only girl on Earth to run to her math tutor like he was giving out candy. Or, in Eugene's eyes, just the only girl on Earth.

* * *

Eugene entered the receiving room at the sound of the queen's tired summons. He found her alone, sitting pin-straight on the sofa, staring into her tea. She was as composed and elegant as ever, but Eugene could tell her spirits were low. The worry lines between her brows were more pronounced, and her eyes lacked their usual luster.

"Mr. Fitzherbert, please, have a seat."

He did so, accepting the proffered tea without mulling too hard on how crazy it still was to be served tea by the queen.

"I am sorry my husband could not be in attendance. He very much wanted to, but negotiations with Baculus continue, and unfortunately these matters of state cannot be delayed."

Eugene nodded. Truth be told, he was a little relieved. It would be easier to tell the queen alone about the entire horse debacle. One might think a man-to-man conversation was preferable, but the king seemed protective enough of his daughter that Eugene didn't want to be the messenger here if it was possible to avoid it.

"I understand," he said. The tea cup was tiny and delicate in his calloused hands; he never could figure out a way to hold it that didn't look completely ridiculous. "Listen, I know things have been… tense… with Baculus and all. I know that's very serious. But…" how to state this in a way that didn't sound like _you're a terrible parent_?

The queen narrowed her eyes, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "I doubt that you do. Just how serious do you think it is?"

Eugene grimaced, taking a big swallow of tea to conceal how she'd caught him off guard. He didn't know that much about international relations, really. It had never applied to him until about a month ago. Most of his life he didn't care a whit about the fate of Corona. It didn't matter what happened to the royals or in whose borders he was thieving, he was still thieving. That was illegal everywhere, and everywhere monarchs and their circles feasted and partied while their people struggled to get by. The discrepancy was large enough to turn him off of politics completely.

"Well…" he said slowly, wishing Rapunzel were there, because she'd open her big mouth and start spouting off all she knew about every country in the entire world and cover his ass unknowingly.

He cleared his throat. "I know you and the king have been very preoccupied with them since Rapunzel got home. I know you both are in meetings with them most of the day, and word on the street is that they're asking for some new trade agreements that are pretty steeply in their favor…"

The queen stared into her tea. "Baculus is essentially demanding tribute from Corona."

Eugene's first instinct was to laugh in her face. Peasants essentially paid tribute to fund her enormous house every year, and now she was ruffled about doing the same? He tamped it down and tried to think of it all in terms of Rapunzel. What was stressing her parents out was eventually going to stress her out, and she was dealing with enough already. "Why?" he asked coolly. "And why now?"

The queen sighed, glancing up at him thoughtfully, as if gauging how much to divulge. "There is some debate about who is heir to the throne of Corona, a debate complicated by Rapunzel's safe return."

"Wouldn't it be _settled_ by Rapunzel's return?"

"Yes, that is what the king and I were hoping. Unfortunately, Baculus does not see it that way."

"Isn't all of this a little premature anyway? You and the king are still spring chickens."

"Even spring chickens are mortal," the queen said gravely, setting her dish down on the rich mahogany table.

Eugene blinked, wondering if he really had just heard the queen make allusions to assassination attempts. It wasn't really something he'd considered - Corona was such a frilly, flamboyant place. They were a merchant country. They had a navy and a lot of trade vessels, but they barely had more than the royal guard in terms of a standing army. They'd always bluffed and bartered their way out of trouble. Really, Eugene fit right in.

"But you have a direct heir... how much clearer could it be than that?"

"My husband's sister had a son, before she died. That son, James, married one of the princesses of Baculus. The two of them are claiming succession rights based on agnatic primogeniture… a system which grants the throne to the eldest _male_ heir, which was not an issue until Elliot went missing..." the queen trailed off, staring into space. Eugene barely understood a word of what she'd said, but he tucked it away to ask Rapunzel about later.

Elliot, he did understand. Even someone as allergic to current events as Eugene knew who Prince Elliot was. He was the son of the king's younger brother. With all of the king's siblings now dead from fever, Elliot was Corona's golden boy, and heir to the throne as long as Rapunzel was missing. Literally: golden depictions of his face were all over the fucking place, and Eugene used to think if he heard one more woman extol Prince Elliot's "radiant golden locks" he'd pop his own ear drums just to have the end of it.

But now Elliot's sparkling smile and flashing blue eyes were reserved for the numerous memorials to him around the city, since his fleet of merchant marines went missing about two years ago. Corona had been pretty down in the dumps after that, with both heirs lost. Elliot's younger sister, Sheina, was the next in line as far as Corona was concerned, but maybe James was claiming a place before her… hell, from what Eugene could tell about royal power plays, you didn't need a legitimate claim to anything at all, you just needed an army.

The queen shook her head, blinking at Eugene like she'd just remembered he was there. "Why am I burdening you with this? Forgive me. You have some concerns about my daughter?"

Eugene frowned, wondering how he was going to change topics from diplomacy to birds and bees. There might not be any way but head on. He cleared his throat. "I think you need to give Rapunzel the talk."

The queen quirked an eyebrow. "_The_ talk?"

He nodded. "Yep. The one about coming into womanhood and where babies come from. The whole shebang."

The queen did the closest thing she could do to scoffing without actually scoffing. "But Rapunzel _is_ a woman. How could she not realize that?"

"Yeah, no offense, but you need to spend more time with her. You'd be surprised at some of the things she doesn't realize."

The queen narrowed her eyebrows, steeling her shoulders. "My daughter is very bright."

"She is, which is part of the problem. She's brilliant and she's misinformed, which means she runs with what little information she has and makes a big mess for herself. I tried to explain things to her -"

The queen blanched.

"-and I took her to Doc Celeste, but I think she really needs to hear it from a woman."

"But Geneva..."

"A _sane_ woman. Geneva thought Rapunzel should see things first hand and took her out to watch the brood mares and the stallions."

The queen laughed once, then quickly cut herself off with a disguising cough. "I see."

Eugene nodded. "Which brings me to my next request - you've got to fire Geneva. There is something wrong with that woman. I get that you want some order in Rapunzel's life, and maybe Geneva is a good fit for your average princess, but Rapunzel is not average. She needs someone who understands people in Rapunzel's situation. Or someone with a good sense of humor. Or both."

The queen's frown returned, and her shoulders drooped a little, her perfect posture showing a hint of wear.

Eugene pressed on. "I know everyone is excited to have the princess back, but you can't think of Rapunzel as a princess first. She's never been a princess before. She's never even been allowed to be a whole person.

She doesn't need a nurse, she needs her parents and she needs friends, and she needs a lot of freedom."

Eugene was surprised by his own statement, how clearly and firmly it came out. He'd always thought Rapunzel was a mystery to him, but maybe he understood her needs, at least on a basic level.

The queen stared down at her hands, folded so neatly in her lap. "I have never been anything _but_ a princess," she murmured. "And then a queen. I have no understanding of her situation. She was taken from me as a baby, and returned a woman of her own making. Corona wants to embrace her as a princess, and Baculus is demanding we submit or take a stand, and Rapunzel..."

Rapunzel is still consulting house plants and sneaking vegetables she doesn't like under the table to her pet chameleon. And laughing, clearer and more beautifully than any sound he'd ever heard. And feeling deeper compassion for others than he thought possible. And showing gratitude for every slip of life that everyone else took for granted. "She'll be fine," Eugene said firmly. "One thing at a time."

"Sometimes she scares me," the queen said abruptly. "She will say or do something so... _odd_. I want to laugh, but I do not want to patronize her. Then I remember how very grave it all is, that underneath the humor is the reality that someone stole my baby and abused her for two decades and I just _waited_ here, while she was _there_, and then Elliot is _gone_, and now the entire _kingdom_ is..."

_This_ was where Rapunzel got her anxiety attacks from. Eugene thought it was a natural symptom of being raised in isolation, and maybe it was, but her voice sped up the same way her mother's did, and both of them leaned forward at almost the same angle, and turned the same slightly greenish shade.

"One thing at a time!" Eugene said quickly, placing a hesitant hand on the queen's narrow shoulder. He remembered how inappropriate that was about the same time she covered his hand with hers, a deep, desperate gratitude in her green eyes.

"Don't be scared of her," he said. "That's the last thing she needs. Just _try_ to understand her, and _try_ to explain things to her. She's good at piecing things together, but you need to give her a fighting chance."

There was a long moment where the queen met his eyes without any kind of regal distance between them, and Eugene could see how much she wanted to love Rapunzel but how unprepared she was. Finally, the queen nodded, straightening, and let his hand fall away. "Of course," she said. "I will speak with her. And I will have Geneva dismissed. Perhaps between the two of us we can make sure she's accompanied until we find a more appropriate companion for her."

Eugene agreed, but he hoped no such companion was found. Rapunzel didn't need professional friends. She just needed people who cared about her.

There was a gentle knock, and at the queen's summons a footman came in with a silver tray. The queen reached for the elegant card, but the footman politely informed them that the message was for Eugene.

Suspecting Rapunzel was using the palace courier service to send him love letters, Eugene shook his head and picked up the note, which actually said: "Eugene Fitzherbert, your presence is requested at the Bleach Street Prison."

Eugene frowned, raising an eyebrow at the queen. "Did you order my arrest?"

She smiled. "Not recently, no."

* * *

Eugene paused at the entrance to the prison, thumbing his chin absently. It really wasn't a very welcoming place. He'd spent most of his life avoiding it, he didn't even like walking by it. Not just because it was swarming with law enforcement, but also because it was swarming with people he once knew. Whores he'd bedded, business partners he'd screwed over, or guys he'd known as a kid in the orphanage - guys like him, who'd had poorer luck or had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn't like thinking about any of those people, so he avoided sight of the prison.

Except now, when he was waltzing right in.

Taking a deep breath, Eugene forced his expression into one of boredom as he met the eyes of the guards in front of the entrance. He waved the calling card around lazily. "All these years you guys have been trying to have me over. All you had to do was ask."

One of the guards seemed to crack a smile, while the other one grunted and fumbled for his keys, turning the lock and heaving open the heavy door. "Go on. The captain is expecting you."

Eugene walked straight ahead, suppressing a shudder as the temperature dropped noticeably inside. His nose twitched at the familiar smell of piss and mold and rotting things. It was a smell he associated with fear - fear for his life, and fear for Rapunzel's, fear for what had happened or could happen to her, fear of what she must think of him to have abandoned her. He shrugged and cracked his neck, rapping on the first door on the right that read _warden_. It still felt weird to be going there voluntarily, but he just wanted to get this over and done with. Rapunzel's goofy grins and the way her hair always smelled like flowers felt impossibly far away.

The door swung open. The warden, a sallow, rodent-looking man with slick black hair and bifocals, was seated behind a wide oak desk. Standing beside him was the good old Captain of the Guard, all gleaming gold armor and pretentious posturing. He looked like he'd downed an entire bottle of bitter resentment and it was going to make him terribly sick.

"Rider, you actually showed up," the captain sneered.

Eugene examined his nails. "Yeah, I had some downtime between tea with the queen and the princess's dancing lessons this afternoon. I got your lovely invitation and I thought, why not? I'll go see my friend the captain at the big house."

The captain sneered. "You sound so domesticated."

"Yeah, it's fantastic, really. They feed me and brush me and everything. Sometimes, if I'm really good, the princess lets me -"

"That's enough. Do you know why you're here?"

"Nope."

The captain huffed, gesturing with one white-gloved hand. "You are aware the Stabbingtons' execution is scheduled for Friday."

He wasn't. He'd tried not to think about them at all since the entire fiasco. Not only had they come sickeningly close to carrying his girlfriend away in a burlap sack, but they were also on death row for the very crime Eugene himself had committed. It was a knotty issue. Eugene avoided those. "Sure."

"All prisoners scheduled for execution are given a final request."

"Aw, I didn't get one of those. Not cool, guys."

The captain ignored him. "Theirs is to see you."

Squinting first at the captain, then at the warden, then back again, Eugene tried to detect what game they were playing. His first thought was that this was a way to trick him into a secluded area of the prison where they could kill him or have the Stabbingtons gladly kill him themselves. Eugene shrugged as he backed towards the door. "Yeah, I'll pass. Thanks, though. I'm flattered."

The captain furrowed his brow, frowning. "Very well..." he said skeptically.

Eugene blinked. Reverse psychology? The captain was above that. Maybe. "You're not going to try to convince me?"

Snorting, the captain shook his head. "Why would I? You and your accomplices having a tête-à-tête is hardly something I eagerly anticipate. Though I'm sure your refusal is just another part of your scheme."

Eugene had his doubts about the captain's acting abilities, which made him wonder if this was a serious request of the Stabbington's. Maybe _they_ were going to attempt to do him in, or maybe they just wanted to have a healthy rant session before they expired. "Did you ask what they wanted to see me about?"

The captain bristled. "Of course I did. They said it was about 'her hair.' It's obvious whose hair they mean."

About Rapunzel's hair? If they wanted to talk about anyone else, he'd blow them off. But he felt a responsibility towards Rapunzel, especially when it came to threats to her safety that were essentially his fault. If they'd spread some rumor in the Corona underworld about the princess's hair, or were trying to make a deal with him for clemency he really didn't have the power to give, he should probably know about it.

And the guards really _shouldn't_ know about it. The true nature of Rapunzel's hair and her upbringing were kept mostly under wraps by the palace - no one knew besides Eugene, Rapunzel, and the king and queen. That lead to a lot of confusion amongst the staff, but Rapunzel was safer that way.

Eugene pasted on the smarmiest smile he could manage, which was so easy he was a bit disgusted with himself, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. _Her_ hair. Yeah. I'd want to reminisce about that on my last leg, too. Or get a lock of it. Captain, you know Louisa, from the Brown Cask, right?"

"What are you suggesting?"

Eugene grinned like a dope. "Oh, _you know_. Legs a mile long, killer rack, and that long _red_ hair of hers. Let me tell you, the carpet matches the -"

"How you managed to endear yourself to the princess is beyond my comprehension, you scoundrel. Go have your filthy trek down memory lane and get out of my sight."

"You don't want to keep me company?"

"_No_, and I won't have you corrupting my men, either."

Eugene was shoved bodily out of the office, then led along the winding corridors by a stern guard. The way the royal guard reacted to amorous talk made Eugene wonder if they were all eunuchs, but it worked just fine for him. He was deposited at the end of a long corridor, an iron door closed behind him, and instructed to speak through the slot when he was ready to come back out.

Eugene's hair stood up on the back of his neck. He hated the feeling of being locked up, even if it was an illusion. He trekked down the corridor, peeking into the mostly empty cells. When he reached the very end, he heard a low, familiar chuckle, and looked up to see Hulk and Bulk Stabbington, as he dubbed them, reclining in their grimy cell as if it were a beach cabana. They wore amused expressions, but looked pretty awful despite their efforts to seem at ease. They'd obviously lost weight, though they still had a couple hundred pounds on Eugene, and their skin was pasty and drawn. Their beards had grown out, coarse and scruffy.

Bulk, with the eye-patch, was lounging in a heap of dirty straw. Hulk was seated on the stone slab that served as a bed, leaning back with his arms tucked behind his head. He had both eyes intact and did most of the talking. Actually, now that Eugene thought about it, he did all of the talking. He smiled, the toothy grin not at all reaching his eyes. "If it isn't Flynn Rider. Or… what is it they're calling you? Eugene Fitzherbert? No wonder you chose a pseudonym. What a shit awful name."

Eugene obviously used to think so too. But since Rapunzel had started moaning it, it was sounding a lot better. He even kind of liked it. He shrugged. "We can't all be born Stabbingtons."

They grunted. "You don't seem to let birth bother you much. They say you're lined up to be a prince."

Eugene was always amazed by the exaggeration of the press. Last he'd checked, the king and queen were tolerating him because he had a way of keeping their daughter calm. He wanted to stay with Rapunzel for as long as he could (forever, he was sometimes surprised to hope for), but taking Rapunzel as a wife, and all that went with such a union, felt like a pipe dream at best. He'd hardly fantasized about _any_ wife, actually, having given up all longings for family when he was a kid. But it wasn't any of their business.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I did say I wanted a castle."

"And you're all about the follow through, aren't you? You know, my brother and I, we've had ourselves some time to think things over. For a while, we thought you were willing to give us the crown because you knew what you could do with all that golden hair."

Hulk sat up straighter, scratching at this beard. "But then, even with that hair gone, you still hung around that broad, which made us think you knew all along she was the princess, and were looking to ingratiate yourself."

That seemed to be the common sentiment of the kingdom, and Eugene worried sometimes even Rapunzel thought so. It _was_ the most likely explanation, given his background. But it wasn't true.

"But _then_ we thought – if you knew she was the princess, you'd have gone for the grand prize – the crown, the girl, _and_ the throne. Why even bother buying us off? You'd have just taken her straight to the palace. So we think you didn't know who she was at all. And now," he grinned again, a dripping leer in his narrowed eyes. "Now we think you just _like_ that little tart."

Eugene yawned, raising an eyebrow. "Did you use your last request just so you could tell me this fairytale of yours?"

"Well, here's the thing," Hulk said, stroking his chin. "We had a great enterprise planned where we'd chain her up in a basement somewhere and rent her out to rich folks who want a little more youth. Or maybe just passing brutes who've got some coin and have a thing for long blonde hair. We're still keen on this idea."

Eugene had been trying to banish such visions from his mind since they'd first implied them on the beach, only to be renewed by Gothel's promise of eternal slavery for Rapunzel. But he wouldn't let on how sick it made him to hear it. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction. "I admire your entrepreneurial spirit," he said. "But you said yourself, her hair is gone. And there are plenty of whores to go around in Corona, not a big draw for skinny, stubborn brunettes. Especially ones with an army of bodyguards."

"You'd think that would be the end of our plan, wouldn't you? But _then_ we heard that when the little bitch _cries_ she can bring people back to life. One tear can raise the dead. Even more powerful than all that hair, and a lot easier to maintain."

Eugene swallowed, trying not to let his surprise show. "Where'd you hear that?" _No one_ knew about that except her parents. And her parents knew to keep their mouths shut.

Bulk picked at his teeth, and Hulk chuckled. "We have our sources. Nothing to do in this place but listen and think about that _skinny, stubborn brunette_ of yours. So we're thinking – this is even better. We know a million ways to make a little girl cry. The possibilities are endless. And appealing. Weeping women always get me going, kinda have to, if you like it as rough as I do."

Eugene's nostrils flared, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets so they wouldn't see them ball into fists. "It's not true," he said. "She cries all the time, and all I get is a wet shirt." In fact, Rapunzel had methodically tested her tears for weeks after she resurrected him, on injured animals or dead bugs in her room, and nothing happened. "She's just a normal girl now."

"Don't see why we should believe you," Hulk shrugged. "Not exactly in your best interest to tell us the truth, is it? But even so, even if we hold her down and rough her up and her tears do nothing but give me a stiffy, well, we'll just use her for what all women are good for and be none the worse for it."

Eugene was about ready to haul the door open and drown Hulk in his own sludge bucket, but if their last wish was to see Eugene in pain over these suggestions, he wasn't going to grant it. "Go ahead and dream, Buddy. I don't see you waltzing out of here and into the palace to grab her."

Hulk continued, as if Eugene hadn't spoken. "Have you already broken her in for us? Does she know what to do with a cock or two? Or we could break her in for you, if you've been waiting to peal a pretty white dress off her first. Are you a romantic, Fitzherbert? We'll fuck her 'til she bores us and leave her broken little body on the palace steps so you can carry her over the threshold."

Eugene didn't blink. "Is that all you wanted to say to me?"

"We were business partners, the three of us. We just thought we owed you a heads up. After all you've done for us, just thought we should share our plans for your sweet little girlfriend. We can't _wait_ to get our hands on her. Hope she's good at multitasking, because neither of us likes sloppy seconds."

Eugene turned on his heel before he could give them an ounce of satisfaction. One more word and he'd explode and give them exactly what they wanted. He stalked down the hallway. He'd go to their execution and watch them die. He'd bribe the hangman to make it slow and agonizing. It didn't matter what they said, they'd never even set their eyes on Rapunzel again. But even knowing that didn't stop their words from echoing in his head, from burning through him.

"Hit a nerve, did we?" Hulk bellowed, hoarse and pleased. "Don't worry. I think those tears _do_ work. I think she'll live a long life with us. I promise, we'll move her to tears every day. Sometimes several times a day. We'll take her breath away."

Eugene rapped once on the heavy door and demanded his exit, slipping through as it opened. He kept a blank face through the dark, fetid hallways, ignoring all questions and barked commands from the captain, marching straight out onto the street.

He took gulps of fresh hair, weaving his fingers through his hair as he squeezed his eyes shut. Images of Rapunzel in their hands burned to the back of his eyes. Someone so vivacious, so innocent, so loving, and so alive shouldn't even share the same air with the likes of the Stabbingtons. They shouldn't even know her name. They shouldn't even be allowed to know she existed.

He ran his hands over his face, wishing they were there now so he could cut their balls off and stuff them down their throats. He knew he did the right thing walking out, but he wasn't used to being the bigger man. It felt awful.

And really, what could he do? He'd always dealt with thugs like that by outrunning them, outsmarting them. He'd won his share of bar fights, but not with the Stabbingtons. He'd affiliated with them in the first place because they were the best muscle around.

For once, Eugene was glad for law enforcement. Glad they were locked up. Glad they would die before the week was out.

He finally opened his eyes, starting the walk back to the palace, trying his best not to think about their threats, but it didn't work. He thought about them, every word, and all he could do was fume and shoulder past anyone he tripped into his path.

He passed the square, with the mosaic of baby Rapunzel and her parents. He passed the memorial to Elliot next to it, with the huge mural of his _radiant_ locks and his flashing eyes, his armor resplendent, hundreds of candles and flowers set out around him, thousands of prayers for his return.

Rapunzel needed a prince. That was what princesses needed. Rapunzel needed a man who was strong and fierce, who knew how to run a country, who knew how to lead an army, who had the power to dispose of people who would threaten her. Eugene was not a prince, despite what everyone else said. He wasn't even Flynn Rider. Flynnigan would know what to do – he'd never listen to goons dishonor his woman. He'd never tolerate that. He'd discard them handily and make her swoon. But then, Flynnigan Rider never cared about one woman enough to be in this situation.

Eugene wasn't even that. He was just a cast off kid who'd turned into a helpless man. All he brought to the table were fiendishly good looks and a couple of sadistic ex-associates who wanted to brutalize his girlfriend.

At the palace, some attendants told him Rapunzel was out in the gardens with Caleb, doing a project. Normally he'd wait for her to get back, but he couldn't. He had to see her, had to see her healthy and happy and okay.

He spotted them downhill in the sweeping landscape surrounding the palace. Rapunzel had a strange gold device she kept holding up to her eye, and Caleb was standing nearby with a pen and a bunch of parchment. He was grumbling at her, though Eugene could tell he was feigning most of his annoyance. She was growing on Caleb.

"Right. You need to hold it steady. Do you see the top of the tree? Okay. Note the angle. No, stop fidgeting. You're fidgeting. Yes, you are. It will muddle your measurements if you keep doing that."

Eugene started down the hill, and the sound of his footsteps made Rapunzel swivel around.

"Eugene!" she cried, jumping up and down a little. "Look what I have! No, wait, stay right there."

Eugene ignored her. He didn't want to stay there. He wanted to be near her. She was grinning, her freckles standing out in the bright sunlight, her tiny frame agitated with excitement. Seeing was not enough – he needed to feel her, needed to hold her. He'd pull her close to him and keep her there. He'd growl at Caleb and anyone else who came near. He'd find a way to keep her safe and with him forever. He was resourceful. He'd take care of her, he'd make her happy.

"_Eugene_," she said. "Go back up there. This is an astrolabe. I want to measure how far away you are."

The excited, pleading look in her eyes somehow sent him back up the hill, where he waited anxiously. He couldn't say no to her, and it was going to kill him.

She peered through her instrument, letting Caleb adjust it and her stance and waiting for him to reach out and still one component that kept swinging back and forth underneath. They conferred.

She gave Caleb the astrolabe and took the parchment, scribbling on it rapidly.

"You need to take your height into account," Caleb said, pointing over her shoulder at something she'd written. "Remember? You're not flat on the ground. Carry the one. Right. What's the length of the hypotenuse? Good. Now… very good. Convert to feet."

She finally looked up at him, looking extremely proud of yourself. "Eugene, you are approximately forty five feet higher in altitude than I am right now!"

"That's great, Blondie. You're smart."

She beamed, and he quickly closed the distance between them.

* * *

**AN **– A little anachronism is good, healthy even.

It's been a long time since I've used an astrolabe… sorry if I mucked it up.

Since last time, I co-wrote a story with Airplane called "Recalibration" about Eugene and Rapunzel getting stranded on a desert island. It's up on his account. Go check it out!

Thanks to **SekiharaTae** for beta-ing. She did a ton of work for this chapter. She's the best! And thanks to **MrsTater** for looking over the final draft and giving me the guts to post it. MrsTater writes adorable Tangled one shots which you should really read. And thanks to** Airplane** for the info about alchemists and ancient sperm experiments. You, sir, are a font of knowledge.

And for your feedback, I thank **Nini the Kakashi Obsessed, MaggieTheUnicorn, wolftracks17, Mandy, cresmoon, lassador, Sean Montgomery, Chibi Monkey13, Funkywatermelon, ProfessorSpork, Jaymee, Nanenna, JumpingPebbles, ronandhermy, Green30, midnightdisaster95, BobtheFrog, Lady of the Hunt, Random, Say It Say My Name, Rebel Song, CYLi, D-rae, Romance and Musicals, futrCSI1490, Ally Marton, Megan Gwinn, Lita64, Elizabeth, XxBlissfulBlondeBrainxX, flatlinedreams, starrystarrynight4, 26ja, Michaela Richelle, Fresh Nomzz, xbecbebex, lovelyMESS, Fish Wishes, La Flor del Fuego, Dina C., My Barbaric YAWP, Dreamicide, PrincessVamp, Sadie, k-fitch, yuri4281, xxfirebubblesxx, Alyson, **and **Steph88NYC**.

Quite a few people were concerned I'd suddenly write an OOC lemon or a lemon at all. Eventually, I probably will write a lemon, because I think it's appropriate to the story, but it hopefully won't be OOC. It'll be in the same key as the rest of the story. I'm not gonna give any more warnings because I think I've made this pretty clear. Hopefully you'll like how it comes out! If you jump ship instead, I understand.


	9. Anxiety

Rapunzel growled in frustration, crossing out her latest attempt at the equation. Caleb had finally accepted that she was a fast learner and gave her some really challenging homework. _Really_ challenging.

"Don't forget your sigfigs," Eugene mumbled, not looking up from his book. "And... units, and stuff."

Rapunzel smiled. He didn't know what he was talking about, but it was cute anyway. He always tried to be helpful. Especially for the last few days, when he'd been particularly glued to her side. In the past, he'd have made himself scarce while she did her homework, gone out for a walk somewhere or harassed the guards. Now he was sprawled on her bed, brows pulled low in concentration as he pored over some dusty old book.

She tilted back in her desk chair, studying his focused expression. "You don't have to keep me company while I do this, you know. There's probably tea in the parlor. They have those cookies you like on Fridays. The ones with the little cashews inside."

He turned a page. "Nah," he said simply.

He was up to something, following her around like a dashing, affectionate shadow. The day before, he'd gone so far as to sit in on her deportment lessons, which he usually despised and avoided at all costs. She managed to convince him to let her take trips to the bathroom alone, and she only got to go to sleep after he'd spoken in grim tones to the guards at her doors and mucked about with the locks on her windows. Even then, she swore she heard him walk up and down the hall outside at the oddest hours.

She'd asked him, one morning when he showed up far earlier than she could ever convince him to rise before, why he was so keen on escorting her everywhere.

First he said she should be thanking her lucky stars because women across the kingdom would swoon at the very thought of having Eugene as a sidekick. When she'd pressed further, he'd shrugged and not met her eye. "I died for you, you know," he said, in a strange, jarringly casual way. "I need to protect my investment."

Both answers were very Flynn-ish, which Rapunzel had come to recognize as a cop out from him. Whenever he didn't want to answer a question, he just assumed his Flynn persona. People let him get away with it because they expected him to be self-centered and slimy, but she knew better. It was clear he was worried about her, but why?

Maybe he just didn't want her to embarrass herself any more than was necessary, because when she was embarrassed she got a little mopey and then he had to cheer her up. If he chased after her all the time, he could coach her through awkward situations or, more likely, do something even more absurd to distract people from her own strangeness. Like when her etiquette instructor insisted on teaching her about mealtime and Eugene ate an entire plate of lemon grass before she reminded him it was just garnish.

"That's stupid," he'd said, curling his lip at his napkin. "I don't want my quail to have a nest on my plate. I just want to eat it. Why are they wasting all this food anyway? I don't need a plate full of random crap to look at." Which prompted the instructor to give him a verbal lashing about the art of cuisine and the pride of Corona, effectively distracting her from the fact that Rapunzel had eaten her entire meal with her sorbet spoon.

And now he was lounging on her bed, reading a book on... she leaned back in her chair, craning her neck to see... _The History of the Crown of Corona and the Rules of Royal Succession_.  
She squinted. That couldn't be right. Eugene only ever read pulp fiction or the crime logs in the newspaper, that last one only because he liked reading about the captain making a fool of himself. But he looked completely absorbed in this book.

She set her work aside for the moment and flopped onto the bed next to him, plucking the tome from his fingers, surprised to find it intact rather than a legitimate-looking cover disguising some adventure novel underneath. "You're actually reading this?" she asked, thumbing the spine. Rapunzel had read it for lessons, twice. It was incredibly dry. She'd have thought he'd be reading the only really interesting chapter of the thing, the one on traditions regarding the consummation of royal marriages, but actually he was in the middle of the section on different modes of succession.

"Yes, I am," he said, reaching for it. "I have to keep up with you somehow."

She cocked her head as he opened back to the same spot, tracing the lines with his index finger as he read. "You never cared about any of that before," she said. "What's the new motivation?"

He slung his arm around her, not looking up from the page. "Just thought it would be better if I didn't need everything constantly explained to me," he said, pinching her hip. It was a simple touch, an idle one, one he clearly thought nothing of since his eyes continued to sweep across line after line of notes on agnatic primogeniture. But to her it was incredibly intimate. Every time he touched her it felt intimate. She was not at all accustomed to sharing her personal space, but when it came to Eugene, she wanted to share it as much as possible.

She was suddenly acutely aware that she was lying in her bed with Eugene. The bed in her quarters as princess. The bed in which, should they wed, they would do all that consummating she read about. And since he'd explained everything to her in layman's terms in the river, she'd read an awful lot. And thought about it even more.

"Did you know," she said, clearing her throat, "that until last century, the royal couples of Corona had to have witnesses on their wedding night?"

That got Eugene's attention, his curious brown eyes flicking over to her face.

She nodded. "At least five different people had to watch."

He was just staring at her, expressionless, as if completely unsure how to respond to this news. So she barreled on. "I mean, not anymore, of course. I mean, when I - if I get married, there's not going to be anyone in my room, when we - when you - I mean, when my husband and I... er... finalize things."

A touch of mirth entered his eyes. "Finalize things?"

She could feel her cheeks redden, but she didn't turn away. "You know what I mean."

"I do." He pulled a ribbon from the back of the book to mark his place and set it aside. "You look anxious," he teased, pulling her closer to him. "Afraid to be seen with me?"

The idea of being _with him_ made her corset feel too tight. Seen or unseen. Even though Eugene had been ever-present in her life these past few days, he hadn't really laid a hand on her since that night in the river, which felt like a _long_ time ago. He always seemed to have something on his mind. And Rapunzel didn't know how to bring it up, how to physically begin things or even ask for him to. She still only had a vague idea of what she wanted him to do, and just saying _please touch me_ seemed a weak approach at best.

She shook her head, swallowing. "No, I'm not afraid." In the back of her mind, she knew that all of this was implying they would wed, that this would be _their_ marriage bed and that she would be his, and he would be hers. And she knew that officially, the topic hadn't even been broached. But she also knew she wanted him and wanted to be with him and the idea of anything else was unfathomable to her.

He smiled and reached up with his free hand to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Good," he said simply. "Because there isn't any rush. No one is going to push you _or_ watch you. Promise."

Maybe _he_ wasn't in any rush, but she felt like _she_ was. She leaned her cheek into his palm, hesitantly reaching out her leg to brush her ankle against his, watching his face with wide eyes for any kind of reaction. His lips quirked up at one corner, and his eyes softened, which was more than enough approval for her. Mustering her courage, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was clumsy at first, but her heart sped up just the same, and she moved closer to him on the bed until her chest was flush against his.

At first, he held very still. He didn't pull away or push her from him, he just didn't respond. She redoubled her efforts, putting her whole self into the kiss and finally teasing her tongue out to trace along his lower lip. Finally, he groaned a little, almost like he was in pain, and took her into his arms.

His fingers on her cheek shifted to tangle in her hair, tilting her head back slightly, gently easing the kiss into something smoother, building a subtle give and take between them. Maybe just kissing wasn't supposed to have this kind of effect on her. But she couldn't help it - it felt wonderful but it didn't feel like enough. Without thinking, she fisted her hands in his shirt and rolled over a little, pulling him on top of her.

For several blissful moments she felt almost complete. She'd never felt a weight on her like this, and it was amazing. He covered every inch of her, his heartbeat rippled through her, his breath pushed her inch by inch into the sheets. Why hadn't he told her that this alone was so perfect? How could they have lain in the grass side by side so many times without her knowing that if he'd just shifted, if she'd just slipped underneath him...

She whimpered a little, opening her mouth for him, opening her arms, twining them around his shoulders. She brushed her tongue against his once before he responded in kind, his kiss taking on a kind of rhythm that intoxicated her, that made her legs part involuntarily, and one of them bend up against his side.

He made a low sound of encouragement, reaching down with one hand to press his palm underneath her thigh and coax her open more, shifting up against her in one fluid movement...

_Oh._

Her eyes flew open and she gasped, breaking the kiss and staring up at him in alarm as he pushed up against her again.

_Oh_.

He had said it would feel good if he touched her there, and she should have believed him. He was barely touching her, and she had all her skirts on, and he was fully clothed, he was just... _rubbing_.

She bit her lip as he leaned his forehead against hers, his dark, burning eyes locked onto hers. She could feel him now, that part of him she'd fumbled with in the water. He was right about that, too - it _did_ change dramatically in size. Just the _thought_ of him fitting inside her made her rise up into him, following his pace as his hips pushed hers into the bed.

There was something transfixing about his face as he watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. His jaw clenched, like he was gritting his teeth, like he was holding back, when she felt like she was completely letting go. She raised her other thigh to clench them around his waist and moaned at each intimate press of him against her, each stroke making the core of her wind tighter and tighter, pushing her closer and closer to something so intense she thought she might scream. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn't want to look away from him, to miss each flickering of his eyes as he heard her pant and sigh. She was so close she could feel something ready to ignite within her and if she hadn't remembered what she'd learned, what he'd promised, she might even have been afraid. "Eugene," she whispered, looking to him for one last reassurance.

He smiled, and it was dazzling. "Hold on," he said, the familiar cockiness in his voice making her feel just safe enough to do as he said, clinging to his shoulders, and-

_THUD THUD THUD._

They froze, Eugene's neck whipping around to face the door, as his frame lowered to shelter her, his arms wrapping around her.

"My lady!" came the harried voice of a page.

Rapunzel felt more frustrated than she ever had in her entire life.

...And she'd spent her entire life alone in a tower, so that's really saying something.

"Go away!" she shrieked. Her legs were shaking and she could barely breathe. The page needed to leave immediately so she and Eugene could finish what they were doing or she was pretty sure she was going to come apart at the seams.

"Your Highness, is Mr. Fitzherbert there with you?"

Eugene slowly let go of her, sitting up. "Yes," he said, and despite the fact that he was catching his breath, his voice sounded completely even. Rapunzel rose with him, already thinking of how to lure him back down.

"Sir, the King requires you in his carriage. Tonight's uh... event has been moved up significantly and the king is ready to depart."

Event? What? Dinner? It was one in the afternoon. They could have dinner at five, as normal, and Eugene could stay with her and finish what he started. What she started. What they started. The point was, they could eat later and do this now.

But Eugene wasn't looking at her, he was carefully untwining her legs from around him and running his hands through his hair, setting it to rights. "I'll be right there," he said, and the page audibly retreated.

"_No_!" Rapunzel said frantically, reaching out to muss his hair up again. She liked it mussed. She liked his kiss-stained lips. She liked him flushed and out of sorts. She liked him on top of her, pressed up against her like that. "Don't leave right now!"

There was a grim set to his lips, and he smoothed his hair again, then reached out to smooth hers. "I'm sorry," he said gently, his eyes softening a little. "I have to."

She blinked, completely at a loss. "But... but we were just... I was going to..."

He kissed her once, on the lips, and however she tried to lean in and prolong it, he managed to escape her. "I'll come back," he said with a gentle smile. "Hold that thought."

She shook her head, stunned. "I don't really think I can."

He laughed, leaning around her to kiss the side of her neck, grazing his teeth gently against her pulse point before pulling away. "I think you can," he said softly. "And you better, because I'm going to come looking for you when I get back."

There was enough promise in his tone to calm her frayed nerves somewhat, and reassure her that this wasn't over quite yet. It was still jarring for her how easily distracted he was, how little bothered he seemed by the interruption, but she just took a few breaths and chocked it up to his experience. Still, with him so fastened to her lately, and so _fastened_to her just now, it was hard for her to imagine anything so important that he'd leave her side.

* * *

"Fitzherbert," the king said solemnly, settling his cloaks around him in a distinctly regal way. "You are flushed. Are you certain you are up for this?"

Eugene was certain he was crazy. He should have stayed with Rapunzel... and what? Gotten her off quickly before he left? Would that have been better? Some girls require extended cuddling sessions after they come down, maybe she'd have felt worse if he helped her finish and _then_ left. He'd definitely cut some girls short on their cuddle time before and they were always the ones who hunted him down. Or maybe not, maybe she'd have floated in her happy place while he was gone for the afternoon. Or maybe she'd have just passed out. He'll never know. Well, he won't know _yet_.

"What happened to eight pm?" Eugene asked, looking out the window as the carriage began to move.

"There was some suspicious activity outside the prison this morning. The captain decided it was best to have done with it as soon as possible, before any mischief could occur."

Eugene rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, trying to sort through his thoughts. He'd been trying to sort through his thoughts for days. "What kind of activity?"

"I do not know the specifics. Apparently crowds were gathering outside the gates for no apparent reason, and then dispersing at odd times. It seemed coordinated in some way, and yet they could not find the root of it or any real results. Still, best to be proactive."

If it meant seeing the Stabbingtons die sooner, that was fine with him. Then maybe he could sleep. Then maybe he could stop tailing Rapunzel like the worried, panicking, over-protective boyfriend that he was. A boyfriend who leaves his girlfriend squirming and unfulfilled. _Because I need to go to the execution of your would-be rapists!_ He wanted to cry, as if that would make sense to the King, as if she could hear him from the road to Bleach Street.

Then there was her broaching the marriage topic. It wasn't that he'd never thought of marrying Rapunzel - he knew very well that if he wanted to spend his life loving her, and he thought that he did, that marriage was in the cards. That's just how it works with classy ladies like, for example, _princesses_. But she'd been out of the tower for only a few months, and familiar with the opposite sex for exactly the same amount of time. The idea of contractually binding herself to another person based on the flurry of feelings she was subjected to in this period of rapid growth and change for her seemed like... a bad idea. They had to take things slow on the marriage front. On every front, really. They had to take things much slower than they were.

They shouldn't have even started anything in the bedroom. He'd deliberately kept things simple between them since his run-in with the Stabbingtons. He couldn't get their threats out of his head, couldn't think about compromising her in any way. But she'd been so trusting, so needy, and then once he saw what pleasure looked like on her face, he couldn't stop. She was beautiful.

And she _felt_...

She felt _amazing_. And he was _so close_ to watching her unravel in his hands. He couldn't imagine how she'd managed eighteen years without an orgasm, but he was more than ready to see the drought end. He'd take full responsibility for that broken record. Maybe the positive side of all of this was that he could do something with a little more finesse than grind against her until she climaxed. Maybe he could...

"Fitzherbert, do you need some air?"

And now he was actively fantasizing about his girlfriend in the presence of said-girlfriend's father. On the way to the hanging of two burly thugs who want to prostitute her to the masses. He couldn't feel sorry - he was glad they were going to die, and when you're around people all the time as he was in the castle, you get your fantasies in when you can.

"I'm fine," he said, catching the scent of Rapunzel on his collar, where she'd hid her face as she clung to him. He'd make it up to her. And then some.

"Are you anxious about the execution?"

"No."

"Even though they are being put to death for your crimes?"

Eugene turned to face the king, not even bothering to conceal his contempt. "They've been tried and convicted for their own crimes. Something you weren't about to afford me for mine." Sexual frustration was making him just a tad edgy. Maybe a tad too edgy. Maybe he shouldn't have said that last part. Too late now.

The king's expression hardened. "They're being executed for their histories of assault, conspiracy, kidnapping, destruction of public property, and theft. You were on the line for treason."  
Eugene balked. "Explain that one to me." If the king only knew what the Stabbingtons had in mind.

"Rapunzel is safe now, the kingdom is at peace with her return. That wasn't the case when you were in prison. She was lost to us, and you had stolen our last shred of hope."

"Uh, Your Majesty, I stole a tiara."

"And all it stood for," the king snapped. And he snapped in more ways than one, his general jolly exterior falling away like a mask. "Do you know what state Corona is in? Do you care? That crown was the symbol of our faith that a legitimate heir would come forward, that the future of this nation was secured, safe from invaders and from collapse. You were trying to cash in on this country's demise, Fitzherbert.

I can only hope, given your impressive upward mobility, that your priorities have changed."

Eugene's lip curled as he crossed his arms over his chest. He missed the old king and queen, who'd seemed more like plain old worried parents than sovereigns. The first weeks of his time in the palace, they'd treated him and Rapunzel with nothing but warmth and good humor. Now he hardly recognized them. They were more what he expected from royalty to begin with.

"Rapunzel is my priority," he said quietly.

The king's eyes narrowed. "And what she stands for?"

"That's her business."

"You need to consider your position, Fitzherbert. You need to think about the bigger picture."

They were nuts, truly. The entire royal family was nuts. Didn't anyone take things in pieces anymore? The big picture was too much to take in. Eugene rolled his eyes. "I think you need to calm down, Your Majesty."

The king drew himself up, and he was impressive. He was a war hero, once upon a time. Like Prince Elliot was before he was lost. Like Eugene never was nor ever would be. "We are about to witness the hanging of two men, may I remind you. There is nothing calm about that."

"Yes, two men I'd really rather not be lumped together with, thanks. We started out on the same page, I'll give you that, but then they tried to capture your daughter and I gave everything I had to protect her. _Before_, I might add, I knew anything at all about her identity. And now I bend over backwards every day to help her adjust to life," he wasn't going to mention their earlier activities, "and I don't ask for any money or guarantees from you. You could toss me out onto the street whenever you want and I'll be right back where I started."

The king huffed. "I spared you your life. You should be thankful enough for that."

And they weren't even in-laws yet. It was going to be a long, long life.

"I'm thankful for your daughter, Your Highness. And that's enough."

The carriage came to a stop as the king's face slowly softened, so infinitesimally that Eugene really had to look for it, but it was there. The king sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, looking so tired when he opened them again. "I... I know," he said, voice gravelly and exhausted. "You've made your intentions clear," _for better or worse_ seemed to go unsaid. "I... Corona is under significant pressure right now. I'm afraid it's made me suspect the worst of everyone."

That was as close as Eugene was going to get to an apology, at least until the current affairs of state were settled and the king and queen could go back to their normal selves. He nodded, following the king out of the carriage.

They were escorted to the rear of the dreary stone fortress, into the courtyard and up onto a platform at the back of the crowd of onlookers. There was a shelter there, with cushioned seats and more guards, like box seats for a sporting event.

Eugene sat to the left and a little behind the king, looking out over the mob of Corona's lowest. Executions were always a favorite pastime of the masses, and this one had an even larger turnout than usual. Every inch of the dusty yard was occupied by men and women of all ages, sizes, and smells. Farmers distributed rotting fruits and vegetables for projectiles and haggard merchants sold effigies of Hulk and Bulk with noose accessories around their enormous necks. Above all, the gallows loomed, the hangman yawning and scratching under his hood.

Eugene somehow managed not to reach up and rub his neck.

The sun was high and it was hot, the old summer air still heavy even as the leaves had begun to turn. Mothers bounced babies on their hips and called for blood as the crowd shifted anxiously, people getting up on tip-toes to try to peer over those next to them, looking towards the gate, waiting for the condemned.

After a while, Eugene grew impatient, too. He just reminded himself that it would all be over soon, and then he could put them out of mind forever and go back to Rapunzel. And she'd be safe, and happy, and with him.

After a while longer, the _king_ grew impatient. "What is the delay?" he said gruffly to the warden, who was in attendance. "Go hurry your guards along. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

The warden nodded obligingly, scurrying to the gate just as the captain came barreling out, looking agitated and flustered - but that was nothing new. They conferred in hushed tones, finally both turning anxiously to the king. After one last look at each other, the warden flew inside the prison as the captain strode purposefully towards the royal pavilion.

"Your Majesty," he said calmly, but firmly. "We need to get you home to the palace and you and your family under protection immediately."

The king frowned. "What's going on?"

Eugene's stomach dropped like a cannon ball in his gut, cold numbness spreading through his limbs.

"There's been a breach in security. Everything will be fine, I assure you, you but we need to get you out of here right now."

"What kind of breach?" Eugene croaked, forcing himself to stay put, not to run like a maniac back to the castle.

"Yes," the king insisted. "What kind of breach? Can't we get this done with?"

The captain was sweating, his mustache twitching like an anxious rodent. "Unfortunately not, my Lord. The prisoners have... er... well, they have escaped."

Eugene wanted to laugh, cry, and scream at the same time. He wanted to laugh because, could he really be surprised? He had once escaped with the help of some rag-tag thugs and a teeter-totter. Bleach Street wasn't exactly the epitome of security.

He wanted to cry because he was exhausted and it increasingly felt like there wasn't a single competent person in the entire country of Corona.

And he wanted to scream because while he sat here, surrounded by idiots and stinky peasants, the two strongest, sickest, cruelest men he knew were likely barreling towards the only thing he cared about.

"What do you mean they _escaped_?" The king sputtered. "Where are your men?"

"In the prison," the captain said quickly. "Ready to escort the captives out here, except they... they are asleep."

"_ASLEEP?_"

"They were _put_ to sleep," the captain said, ushering them all down the platform through two rows of guards leading towards their carriage. "It seems they've all been poisoned somehow. They will be thoroughly interrogated when... well, when we can get them awake."

"And _no one_ saw two _enormous_ men, one with an _eyepatch_, stroll out of the land's most notorious penitentiary?"

"Well, the city is in a bit of a... how shall we say... a bit of a flurry, right now. Apparently there's some strange excitement at the palace."

The carriage was already speeding down the main road back to the castle. Eugene would have climbed out onto the driver's seat if he thought the horses could go any faster. Eugene wasn't really a panicking kind of guy. Even when he was on his way to hang, it was more resignation than panic he felt. But now that he knew what it felt like to be actually happy, panic came very easily. Eugene had something very, very dear to lose. Just the idea of that loss made his blood run cold. He'd be damned if he didn't fight for her with every bit of strength he had.

"What kind of excitement?" The king cried.

The captain was white as a grub, as he should be. "Truly, Your Majesty, I do not know."

As the carriage pulled to a stop outside the palace, Eugene was the first to leap out, taking the steps three at a time. There were no guards at the front gate - they must be needed inside. He hauled the enormous doors open himself, running into three agitated maids in the grand foyer.

"They're here!" one of them squealed, adjusting her mob cap as they shimmied towards the main courtroom, the great receiving hall with the formal thrones. They weren't talking about the king and his entourage.

What kind of idiots were they, running _towards_ the intruders? They should be fleeing for their lives.

Eugene pushed past them, his heart hammering up into his throat as he ran down the long marble hallway towards the hall. It was filled with servants, flocking towards the thrones like salmon.

Finally, he broke through the crowd and saw them - Rapunzel and the Queen, seated on their thrones, stunned and shocked. At their feet knelt some very unexpected visitors.

* * *

AN - For those of you hankering for smut, I put a link in my profile to my complete list of Tangled fanfic, which includes some raunchy things not posted on this site. I also have a new AU up that's bound to turn smutty, since I'm writing it.

Thanks **SekiharaTae** for betaing! And thanks **Airplane **and **MrsTater** for giving me advice for this chapter!

And thanks **Professor Spork, Nini the Kakashi Obsessed, ronandhermy, Michaela Richelle, XxBlissfulBlondeBrainxX, CocoRocks, Ivorybreath, futrCSI1490, xbecbebex, Airplane, Funkywatermelon, cresmoon, tb2270, Nanenna, yuri4281, Sookdeo, Cowgirlte, Chibi Monkey13, steph88NYC, D-rae, JumpingPebbles, chinadoll03, Reverend Lovejoy, MrsTater, CeeSpotWrite, Lita64, Alyson, shugosailormewmewz21, TheSunday, Say It Say My Name, Romance and Musicals, 26ja, Kailee, Ally Marton, starrystarrynight4, Rosabell, Hedlund, Jaddasroots, Wittgen, Emshadow1, BornAverage, Mistress of Avalon, Ironblood1, LovelyLorraine, Jaymee, Contemperina, ChaosViper, Zurai, Winged Cherry, QueenTania, Magdalenara, LexVictoriaX, **and **pianochick** for your feedback on chapter 8! Whenever I get stuck I reread your comments for encouragement ^_^. Thank you so much.


	10. Adaptation

Eugene was a man of many words. He was, one might say, 'chatty.' He had a snarky response for everything, even when he might best serve himself with silence.

And for once, Eugene was completely speechless.

The entire great hall was speechless.

Rapunzel was sitting on the edge of her throne, the crown Eugene had once stolen poised delicately among her dark hair. Next to her, her mother sat in the same position, but with years of refinement and gravitas Rapunzel had not yet developed.

And on the floor, kneeling in a semicircle, were a strangely rag tag bunch. They were practically in tatters, swords in miss-matched scabbards and other odd weapons strapped to their sides, sodden, muddy half cloaks draped over their shoulders. They all looked overdue for a bath and a shave and a square meal.

Yet they clearly weren't peasants, they held themselves with the nobility of knights, or royals. Knights who'd clearly been through hell.

Finally, the queen, tears in her eyes, got to her feet. "...E... Elliot? Is that you?"

If Eugene had any thoughts left, they vanished. There was a low murmur among the crowd as the leader, in the center, raised his head. His blond hair was dirty, long now, pulled back at his nape, but under his scruffy beard and sun-scarred skin was still the same striking bone structure cut into stone all across the kingdom, the same piercing, strange blue eyes. They had a sharpness, an anger, that faded away under the queen's gaze as his eyes filled with tears, too. "Aunt," he murmured.

"Oh!" she burst into tears, falling onto the floor into her nephew's open arms, drawing him to her like a mother bird, tucking his head under her chin and rocking back and forth as she cried into his hair. It was a completely undignified display. The entire court watched in awe.

Rapunzel stood, reaching out as if to comfort her mother but drew back, caught completely off guard by this unusual public show of emotion. Eugene wanted to go to her, but that meant cutting through the little circle of battered returned knights, going around through the thick crowd would be impossible.

"How could it be?" the queen cried, stroking Elliot's head. "We thought you lost to us."

"I have returned," he said quietly, loud enough only for those closest to hear. "I'll always come home."

She held him away from her to look at his face. "What has become of you?" she said, shaking her head. "What happened to you?"

Elliot looked about to answer when he turned his head slightly and caught sight of Rapunzel, at whom he stared openly, his mouth falling open a little.

And she, completely taken aback, and still not accustomed to people staring at her and kowtowing, waved a little.

The queen sniffled happily, sweeping an arm out towards Rapunzel. "Elliot... this is my daughter, Rapunzel, Princess of Corona."

Eugene had heard the epithet countless times, but there was something so strangely final about it now, like shutters closing between him and the girl he loved. He struggled to hold onto the fleeting random memories of her dragging her hair through the grass, or laughing into his shoulder, or skidding down palace corridors and kissing the corner of his mouth so tenderly one would think she were blessing him, printing her heart right onto his face.

He licked his lips, anxious, overwhelmed.

Elliot's shock and awe was etched onto his features, his eyes wide and a little misty, sweeping over Rapunzel's face for several moments before he bowed his head. "Princess." His voice was strained, full of an effortless, aching reverence. He looked almost faint, and he probably was.

Rapunzel looked to her mother for guidance, finally clearing her throat and reciting, as if directly from one of her lessons, "Prince Elliot, I am honored to meet you."

Elliot looked up, an amused and slightly dazed smile tugging at his lips. "The honor is mine, Lady, truly." He turned back to the queen, his amazement turning to a kind of joyful incredulity. "But I think we must have actually perished at sea, because I don't see how I could get home safely _and_ see my family restored in one day, after everything..."

_No!_ _ She's there and she's __**real**__! And she's mine. I want her to be __**my **__family. _These thoughts raced aimlessly, nonsensically through Eugene's mind. How did he manage to be jealous already? They were only looking at each other, and Rapunzel looked more baffled than anything else. It was Elliot's gaze that bothered him. For all of its longing intensity you would think he'd been lost at sea for years and Rapunzel was the first young woman he'd laid eyes on and she just happened to be the legendary, long sought after, long pined-for princess of the realm. And she was radiantly beautiful. There was that.

The queen stood, bringing Elliot with her. She was still sniffling, and her words were punctuated with rapturous gazes at her returned nephew. "Rapunzel has been through quite a... travail. She is only now learning how to greet other nobles at court. She is a little nervous."

Elliot smiled, and this time it was the all out, patented, Prince of Corona beam, with a touch of smitten-dope mixed in. "She did wonderfully."

Rapunzel smiled too, hesitant, but genuinely pleased and significantly less awkward than she had been.

Then the king came in, and the whole touching scene repeated itself all over again. It was like when Rapunzel first returned to the castle, except Elliot was taking Eugene's spot in the hug, and Eugene was just watching, stunned.

From her place in the hug, Rapunzel's eyes scanned the crowd, restless. Eugene knew her, knew her moods and her emotions. She still wasn't used to all the touching. She wasn't used to the crowds. She didn't know this man, beyond knowing _of_ him, and the fact that she didn't share the same visceral joy of her family would make her feel even more like an imposter, like something was wrong with her.

Her eyes finally landed on Eugene and her whole face softened, and with it the strain in Eugene's chest. Carefully she extricated herself from the embrace, coming over and taking Eugene's hand to lead him back to her family. "Uh... Elliot, this is my... suitor. Eugene."

They all stood, and Elliot managed, somehow, to be even more stunned than he already was. He gaped for a second, before his hand when to his sword. "_Flynn Rider?_"

Eugene felt a prick of pride that Elliot recognized him, even if it was as a criminal. Rapunzel quickly put her arms out, positioning herself between Elliot and Eugene in an adorable display of protectiveness. "Yes, but don't worry, he's on our side now. And his real name is Eugene. And he's my best friend."

Elliot glanced back at the king and queen, who smiled calmly at him. He blanched, but relaxed his posture, bringing his sword hand up to his chest and rubbing it absently.

"_Oh_," Rapunzel gasped, "What happened to your hand?"

For the first time, everyone seemed to notice that Elliot's right hand was wrapped in a grungy, blood-stained bandage. The hall was silent, waiting for an answer, all eyes on their returned prince, who looked dirtier and smaller and sicker by the second.

"I... uh..." He shrank back a little, looking to his aunt and uncle for support. He flickered between princely and completely exhausted before their eyes.

The queen shook her head, putting a reassuring arm around Elliot's shoulders. "Let us get you some place quiet, dear. We can talk about all of this after you've rested."

* * *

Prince Elliot slept for a very long time. The other men were kept up longer to provide an explanation. Rapunzel was allowed to sit with the king and queen and hear their report, and of course she wanted Eugene with her, so they all listened to the sailors' story. A week or so out of harbor, they were besieged by an enemy force - who? Not pirates, they were organized and well outfitted and disciplined, but they flew no flag. Elliot and a few others had been captured and brought to a make-shift island prison. The sailors were tight-lipped about their conditions, but it was obvious from the sight of them that it hadn't been a good time. They were gaunt, scraggly, and jaundiced. Rapunzel wanted to question them endlessly about their voyage, but they were dismissed after the briefest of summaries to tend to their health.

As soon as they were gone, Eugene tugged Rapunzel into a secluded hallway and pulled her tight up to his chest, tighter than he'd ever held her before, it was almost painful. His expression was wild, and his eyes flew over her face, her limbs, her body, every inch of her, as if inspecting her for wounds. Finally he took her face in his hands and kissed her, deeply, passionately, leaving them both breathless.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," he rasped, not letting up on his hold on her, meeting their mouths again like he needed her to breathe.

She finally broke away, thrilled by this attention but confused, at the same time. "Eugene," she said, gently, "It's okay. I'm not planning on joining the navy. That will never happen to me." She was very touched by his concern, though.

Eugene faltered, something he didn't often do, and licked his lips, brows furrowed. Finally, he said "I... I know. Just..." he sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. "Please let me protect you. I just... need to."

She tried to remember if she'd _ever_ heard him stutter before. "Eugene... really, I'm okay. I'm here, alive and well, you don't need to worry." She hated to see him so troubled.

His expression didn't change, he just looked into her eyes and repeated himself, softly. "Please, Rapunzel."

It was her turn to search his face. She didn't know what was getting under his skin, but she didn't want to question him further right then. She knew what it was to worry over someone, and sometimes it wasn't even logical. "Of course, Eugene."

Then she kissed him again, because she was hoping that they might continue what they'd started earlier in her bedroom, and that in doing so he'd forget what was availing him and have some fun with her, but his kisses were only tender now, thorough but banked, like his body was invested but his mind was elsewhere.

* * *

Elliot was in pretty terrible shape. He didn't appear until dinner the following day. He'd had a bath, a rest, and a shave, a haircut, and a new set of clothes. He looked... Rapunzel could only think of the word 'princely.' True, he was shockingly thin, his cheek bones protruding a little, dark, deep circles under his eyes. But even after everything, he held himself in a way Rapunzel couldn't quite mimic no matter how much she tried. He sat up so straight, and had a kind of dignity in the set of his shoulders, in his expression.

When they served the first course, he stared at the plate for a long time. It was chilled carrot and ginger soup with fresh bread, one of Rapunzel's favorites.

Her mother reached over and gently touched Elliot's hand. "Dear... is it alright? I remember how much you liked it, but... maybe your tastes have changed."

Elliot looked at her hand on his gloved one for a few moments before meeting her eyes and smiling a little. "Of course... it is my favorite, isn't it? There's just something... so surreal about all of this."

"It's my favorite soup, too!" Rapunzel said excitedly, bouncing a little in her seat. "Maybe we have the same tastes because we are related."

"Yes!" Eugene chimed in, smiling broadly and clutching his own spoon. "You're so related! First cousins, huh? Awfully related. You probably have every single thing in common."

Rapunzel nodded, reaching for her spoon. "Let's dig in!"

But Elliot looked at his spoon for a long time before reaching for it. It looked... odd in his hand, like it wasn't balanced correctly. Then Rapunzel noticed that the index and ring fingers of his glove were folded in against his palm as if... and she remembered the bandage around his hand.

"What happened to your fingers?" she gasped, and only realized that was an insensitive question when her mother gave her a pleading look.

"Rapunzel," she gently chided.

Elliot cleared his throat, switching the spoon to his left hand and smiling weakly at Rapunzel. "It's not exactly dinner conversation, Princess," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I alarmed you."

She looked at Eugene for guidance, but he was staring blankly at Elliot, seemingly chewing... his soup.

Now everyone was staring at their plates in silence.

Rapunzel poked a chunk of carrot around in her soup, trying to think of something helpful to say. "We're having steak au poivre tonight," she said, looking back to Elliot. "I can cut it for you, if you want. I can help."

"Rapunzel!" her mother's nudge was sharper this time, giving her a meaningful look she just couldn't decipher. What? He clearly would have a hard time wielding a knife _and_ fork. She could take care of that for him.

"It's okay..." Elliot said to her mother, turning tired but gentle eyes on Rapunzel. "Thank you, Princess. You're very thoughtful."

The king coughed. "I'm sure that won't be necessary."

"It is a kindness," Elliot said more firmly. "I haven't quite mastered my right hand again. I've resigned myself to relearning the sword with my left, but table etiquette will always be a trial, I expect."

"It's hard for me, too." Rapunzel said, latching on to any topic that wouldn't get her scolded or make anyone else feel bad. "The other day I ate an entire meal with my sorbet spoon without realizing."

Elliot smiled at her, and this time it seemed a little more genuine. "Your etiquette instructor must have had something to say about that."

She shrugged a little. "Actually, Eugene covered for me. He complained really loudly about the garnish and I don't think she noticed. Eugene is good at..." she looked at Eugene for vocabulary help, trying to remember the term he'd used. Oh yes. "He's good at 'staging a diversion.' He keeps me out of trouble."

Elliot snorted softly, then seemed to remember that snorting was not table behavior and straightened. "Yes... I recall that Flynn Rider did use distraction very cleverly. They used his crimes as case studies when I was being trained in the guard, you know. We used to think of him as somewhat of a threat to national security, and now..." he looked at Eugene and shrugged a little. _Who'd have thought?_

"Right?" Rapunzel agreed proudly, reaching out to touch Eugene's arm. "Now he's a national _hero! _He reminds me every day that anything is possible, that any transformation can happen. If Eugene can be a good prince, then maybe I can be a good princess, too."

Elliot had finally managed to get a bite of soup, but at her words, he coughed, pounding his chest lightly with his crippled fist until he swallowed painfully, even paler than he was already.

"Are you alright?" Rapunzel nudged his water glass towards him in concern. "The ginger in the soup can surprise you..."

"Fine," Elliot croaked, his eyes watering a little. Clearly it had gone down the wrong pipe. He took a long drink of water and then a breath. "Prince?" he asked, his voice tight.

She looked around the table, wondering how she'd managed to say something wrong again. The king and queen were looking at each other with unreadable expressions, and Eugene was sopping up the last of his soup with his bread with such concentration you'd think it was a soup-sopping contest.

"Well... yes," she said, blinking. "Once we're married, he will be a prince."

Elliot took on a greenish tinge, though his placid smiled stayed in place. "Married?"

Rapunzel laughed nervously. "Someday, I mean," she said quickly. "He... hasn't even asked me yet. But... that's what people who really like each other do, right?" No one was saying anything. What was going on? "Maybe not, maybe he won't ask..."

"Of course I'll ask," Eugene said, taking her hand under the table and giving it a squeeze. "Don't even worry, Rapunzel. I'm not going anywhere. It's a long way off, though. You just got home, remember? Plenty of time for that."

"Oh, I know," she said quickly, feeling more and more stupid by the minute. She wasn't ready to be married. Or engaged. She wasn't even ready for this conversation. Eugene would ask? That made her heart speed up, just the thought. Why were they talking about this at the table, instead of alone, where they could embrace and speak freely? "I was just, he just, I..."

Elliot stood abruptly, his good hand rubbing at his temple. "Excuse me," he said quietly. "I'm feeling a little light headed. If it's alright with you all, I think I'll retire for the evening."

"Of course, my boy," The king said, nodding. "We'll have the kitchens send something along to your room. You need to eat to regain your strength."

"Thank you," Elliot said, and bowed slightly before leaving the room without another look at Rapunzel.

Wow. She never realized how useful those lessons on dinner conversation might have been if she'd paid attention. She'd never had trouble carrying a conversation before, but she realized now that she only ever talked to people who cared about her, like her parents or Eugene, or people who had to pretend they cared about her, like the servants. So they gave her a lot of slack. Elliot wasn't quite either of those things, and he hadn't lasted five minutes in conversation with her. She had her work cut out.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, feeling completely stupid and lost.

Her mother sighed, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "It is just fine, Sweetheart. We all have... so much to talk about. It will take time for Elliot to adjust. We must be patient."

Rapunzel was relieved not to be blamed, even though she knew the dinner failure was her fault. Maybe once she was alone with Eugene, he could explain what went wrong.

* * *

Eugene grumbled as he hefted himself up onto Rapunzel's windowsill. If this were a booty call, he'd just feel cocky. He was Flynn Rider, after all. Even the palace couldn't keep him out. Couldn't even trip him up.

But it wasn't a booty call, and his ease in accessing the princess's bedroom just pissed him off. You'd think, after having her stolen from the royal chambers once, they'd have stepped it up a little. The kingdom was full of morons. Happy, sunshiney morons.

He sat on the sill and picked the lock easily, slipping in silently and shutting it behind him. The nights were getting quite cool, and Blondie was all snuggled up for bed. All snuggled up in her little nightgown, the thin straps precarious on her slight shoulders, the covers pulled up to her waist as she sat up in bed, reading.

So many flirtatious things to say. So many ways to say good night. He could just bend and kiss her, or pull her into his arms. They could finally continue where they'd left off the morning of the execution...

The execution that was not an execution. Eugene reached up to run his hands over his face, letting out an exasperated sigh that made Rapunzel jump a little in bed. She snapped her book shut, staring at him with wide eyes, one hand to her chest as she caught her breath.

"Eugene!" she scolded with a smile. "You're not supposed to be in here!"

"I know. And yet, here I am. No one even tried to stop me."

"That's a good thing, right?" She held out her arms. "Come cuddle!"

Oh, so tempting. Her nightgown was silky, her skin even more so, he knew. He could join her, and push away thoughts of the jailbreak, of her blond boyish cousin returned, of the memory of the grim conversation he'd had with her mother.

He shook his head, hefting himself back up onto the window seat and looking out. He'd have preferred being able to guard her door and windows at the same time, but there was only one of him, and so he'd have to put at least a little faith in the oafs stationed in the hall. "Sorry, Goldie. I'm going to stay here tonight."

He could see her cock her head out of the corner of his eye. He tried not to look directly at her - she was too appealing, too inviting. "You're going to stay in my room tonight?" she asked innocently. "Is that okay?"

"Okay with who?" Eugene asked, keeping his eyes moving over the grounds. They were empty. "Your mom sacked Geneva. Everyone else around here is too busy to notice someone creeping into your room, apparently."

She smiled so wide, he could see its brilliance even from the side. "Then come cuddle with me. No one will catch us. We can have a slumber party!"

Eugene swallowed, running a hand through his hair. He didn't want to explain to her why he had to be on alert. It was her job to enjoy her new life, to experience the world openly and joyfully. It was his job to protect her, to make that possible. Recreational slumber parties unfortunately ranked lower at the moment. "This is a kind of slumber party. You can slumber there, and I'll slumber here." He wasn't really planning on sleeping, though.

"That doesn't sound like much of a party..." She slid out of bed, coming to sit across from him, moving the pillow from between them and holding it in her lap. He ignored how she folded her legs under her, how slender and soft they looked. He ignored the way her nightdress slipped low on her chest, and the shadow between her breasts.

He didn't say anything, and didn't look at her, not trusting himself not to touch her, kiss her, start something that it wasn't the right time to finish.

She poked his leg with her toes, her cute, sexy little toes. "Are you mad at me about dinner?"

He looked at her, surprised. She looked sincerely concerned, her wide green eyes locked on his.

"What? No way, Blondie. Why would you think that?"

"Well... you've been acting funny since... " her face scrunched in thought. "Well, for the past week or so. But this is a new level of funny. Sneaking in my room and then not even touching me? Not looking at me?"

He still hadn't told her about what happened a week ago, when he'd visited the jail. He hadn't told anyone. But now that the Stabbingtons were out there, somewhere, he knew he'd have to break his silence. Not to her though. If he had any say, Hulk and Bulk would be caught and done away with before she worried a single hair on her head.

She bit her lip. "And then tonight at dinner... well, I did embarrass myself. It was really awkward. And then there was the whole... marriage thing.

Right. The marriage thing. A thing which they needed to talk about. But he would like for that to be talked about some other time, when he could focus on romancing her and not preventing her gristly murder. "You didn't embarrass yourself," he said, taking off his boots so they could play footsie properly. "You were sweet, and trying to help. There were just a lot of histories and egos in that room. It was an emotional minefield."

She brightened when he brushed his toes along her ankle, nudging him back. "Histories and egos?"

"Yeah... I think your dad thought that offering to cut up the steak of the country's most lauded solider and swordsman would have belittled him." He saw the horror on Rapunzel's face and quickly continued. "But to his credit, Elliot seemed not to take it that way. Seemed like he took it as the sweet, kind offer it was. You're a good kid, Rapunzel. Don't worry about all that."

She listened carefully, soaking up his words, though her brows stayed furrowed. "What about... when he got up to leave? Was I..." she swallowed, her voice growing softer, more vulnerable. "Was I wrong to think you and I would... might... that we'd marry?"

"No, of course not," he said gently, pausing their footsie. "You weren't wrong. And we'll talk about that sometime. But... I think it just wasn't what Elliot wanted to hear."

That surprised her. "Why not? It's exciting to think about!"

"Yeah. Maybe a little too much excitement. He just got home from a pretty horrible place. It's a lot to take in. He was next in line for the throne, remember? Now not only is he not going to be King, but some other dude is going to be higher on the totem pole. A dude he used to be trained to hate. And he finds this out within minutes of a cousin he didn't know he had offering to help him with basic needs he can't meet for himself anymore because he's had a few fingers hacked off by some horrible pirate or something."

Horror again, and this time, he had to admit, justified. Even Eugene felt bad for Elliot, and he already was inclined to dislike the guy. "Hey, it's okay," he said gently, reaching out to take her hand. "It's not your fault. You were just trying to help and he knows that. We all know that. You just gotta go easy on the excitement with Elliot for a while, I think."

She nodded thoughtfully, letting go of his hand and putting the pillow aside, crawling forward into his lap and laying her head on his shoulder, looking out over the lawns. He sighed, folding his arms around her without protest. She never asked or gave much warning for emergency cuddles, and he couldn't say he really objected. Besides, when she really needed comforting, he found it significantly easier to restrain himself from... other things.

"Will you help me?" she asked quietly, curling into a little ball. "I don't want to hurt him. I don't want to hurt anyone. I need your help understanding."

His heart clenched, and he set his jaw, pulling her in tighter against his chest. "Sugar, you don't have to worry about that. You couldn't hurt anyone. Of course I'll help you figure everything out. And I'm not going to let anyone hurt _you_, either."

No one. Not ever. Somehow, he'd make sure of it.

* * *

**AN- This chapter is dedicated to Ned (Airplane) and Flynn (TheSmokinSmolder) for their birthdays! (May 9th and 7th!) Happy birthday to my favorite boys of the Tangled fandom. I love you both so much.**

**Thanks to Ned, also, for betaing this chapter!**

**Thanks to everyone who left reviews on chapter 9. The number of readers has gotten well past my ability to list you all in a reasonable amount of space for an AN. But thank you so much for your support and feedback. I really, really appreciate it!**


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